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RUDYARD  KIPLING 
Volume  IV 
IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


THE  WRITiNGS  IN  PROSE  AND  VEHht.  Oif 

RUDYARD  KIPLING 


IN  BLACK  AND 
WHITE  ^  ^  ^ 


NFW  YORK 
CHARLES  SCRIBNHR'S  SONS 
1913 

j^iAW  YTIQ  aHT  VIO  


ON  THE  CITY  WAUL 


THE  WRITINGS  IN  PROSE  AND  VERSE  OF 

RUDYARD  KIPLING 


IN  BLACK  AND 
WHITE  ^  ^ 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

1913 


Copyright^  iStps* 
By  Macmillan  and  Ca 

Copyright,  i8gy. 

By  RUSYARD  KiPLIMG 


^23 


PREFACE 

Q  In  Northern  India  stood  a  monastery  called  Th@ 

Chubara  of  Dhunni  Bhagat.  No  one  remembered 
who  or  what  Dhunni  Bhagat  had  been.    He  had 
lived  his  life,  made  a  little  money  and  spent  it  all, 
p  as  every  good  Hindu  should  do,  on  a  work  of 

j-J  piety — the  Chubara.   That  was  full  of  brick  cells, 

S  gaily  painted  with  the  figures  of  Gods  and  kings 

and  elephants,  where  worn-out  priests  could  sit 
2  and  meditate  on  the  latter  end  of  things :  the  paths 
were  brick-paved,  and  the  naked  feet  of  thousands 
had  worn  them  into  gutters.  Clumps  of  mangoes 
sprouted  from  between  the  bricks;  great  pipal 
trees  overhung  the  well-windlass  that  whined  all 
day ;  and  hosts  of  parrots  tore  through  the  trees. 
Crows  and  squirrels  were  tame  in  that  place,  for 
they  knew  that  never  a  priest  would  touch  them. 

The  wandering  mendicants,  charm-sellers,  and 
holy  vagabonds  for  a  hundred  miles  round  used  to 
make  the  Chubara  their  place  of  call  and  rest. 
Mahommedan,  Sikh,  and  Hindu  mixed  equally  un- 
der the  trees.  They  were  old  men,  and  when  man 
has  come  to  the  turnstiles  of  Night  all  the  creeds 


QQ 


PREFACE 


in  the  world  seem  to  him  wonderfully  alike  and 
colourless. 

Gobind  the  one-eyed  told  me  this.  He  was  a 
holy  man  who  lived  on  an  island  in  the  middle  of 
a  river,  and  fed  the  fishes  with  little  bread  pellets 
twice  a  day.  In  flood-time,  when  swollen  corpses 
stranded  themselves  at  the  foot  of  the  island,  Go- 
bind  would  cause  them  to  be  piously  burned,  for 
the  sake  of  the  honour  of  mankind,  and  having 
regard  to  his  own  account  with  God  hereafter. 
But  when  two-thirds  of  the  island  was  torn  away 
in  a  spate,  Gobind  came  across  the  river  to  Dhunni 
Bhagat's  Chubara,  he  and  his  brass  drinking-vessel 
with  the  well-cord  round  the  neck,  his  short  arm- 
rest crutch  studded  with  brass  nails,  his  roll  of 
bedding,  his  big  pipe,  his  umbrella,  and  his  tall 
sugar-loaf  hat  with  the  nodding  peacock  feathers 
in  it.  He  wrapped  himself  up  in  his  patched 
quilt  made  of  every  colour  and  material  in  the 
world,  sat  down  in  a  sunny  corner  of  the  very 
quiet  Chubara,  and,  resting  his  arm  on  his  short- 
handled  crutch,  waited  for  death.  The  people 
brought  him  food  and  little  clumps  of  marigold 
flowers,  and  he  gave  his  blessing  in  return.  He 
was  nearly  blind,  and  his  face  was  seamed  and 
lined  and  wrinkled  beyond  belief,  for  he  had  lived 
in  his  time,  which  was  before  the  English  came 
within  five  hundred  miles  of  Dhunni  Bhagat's 
Chubara. 

vi 


PREFACE 


When  we  grew  to  know  each  other  well,  Go- 
bind  would  tell  me  tales  in  a  voice  most  like  the 
rumbling  of  heavy  guns  over  a  wooden  bridge.  His 
tales  were  true,  but  not  one  in  twenty  could  be 
printed  in  an  English  book,  because  the  English 
do  not  think  as  natives  do.  They  brood  over 
matters  that  a  native  would  dismiss  till  a  fitting 
occasion;  and  what  they  would  not  think  twice 
about  a  native  will  brood  over  till  a  fitting  occa- 
sion: then  native  and  English  stare  at  each  other 
hopelessly  across  great  gulfs  of  miscomprehension. 

"And  what,"  saiu  Gobind  one  Sunday  evening, 
"  is  your  honoured  craft,  and  by  what  manner  of 
means  earn  you  your  daily  bread  ?  " 

"I  am,"  said  I,  "a  kerani — one  who  writes 
with  a  pen  upon  paper,  not  being  in  the  service 
of  the  Government." 

"  Then  what  do  you  write  ? "  said  Gobind. 
"  Come  nearer,  for  I  cannot  see  your  countenance, 
and  the  light  fails." 

"  I  write  of  all  matters  that  lie  within  my  un- 
derstanding, and  of  many  that  do  not.  But  chiefly 
I  write  of  Life  and  Death,  and  men  and  women, 
and  Love  and  Fate,  according  to  the  measure  of 
my  ability,  telling  the  tale  through  the  mouths  of 
one,  two,  or  more  people.  Then  by  the  favour 
of  God  the  tales  are  sold  and  money  accrues  to 
me  that  I  may  keep  alive." 

"  Even  so,"  said  Gobind.  "  That  is  the  work 
vii 


PREFACE 


of  the  bazar  story-teller;  but  he  speaks  straight  to 
men  and  women  and  does  not  write  anything  at 
all.  Only  when  the  tale  has  aroused  expectation 
and  calamities  are  about  to  befall  the  virtuous,  he 
stops  suddenly  and  demands  payment  ere  he  con- 
tinues the  narration.  Is  it  so  in  your  craft,  my 
son  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  of  such  things  when  a  tale  is  of 
great  length,  and  is  sold  as  a  cucumber,  in  small 
pieces." 

"  Ay,  I  was  once  a  famed  teller  of  stories  when 
I  was  begging  on  the  road  between  Koshin  and 
Etra,  before  the  last  pilgrimage  that  ever  I  took 
to  Orissa.  I  told  many  tales  and  heard  many  more 
at  the  rest-houses  in  the  evening  when  we  were 
merry  at  the  end  of  the  march.  It  is  in  my  heart 
that  grown  men  are  but  as  little  children  in  the 
matter  of  tales,  and  the  oldest  tale  is  the  most  be- 
loved." 

"  With  your  people  that  is  truth,"  said  I.  "  But 
in  regard  to  our  people  they  desire  new  tales,  and 
when  all  is  written  they  rise  up  and  declare  that 
the  tale  were  better  told  in  such  and  such  a  man- 
ner, and  doubt  either  the  truth  or  the  invention 
thereof" 

"  But  what  folly  is  theirs !  "  said  Gobind,  throw- 
ing out  his  knotted  hand.  "  A  tale  that  is  told  is 
a  true  tale  as  long  as  the  telling  lasts.  And  of 
their  talk  upon  it  —  you  know  how  Bilas  Khan, 

viii 


PREFACE 


that  was  the  prince  of  tale-tellers,  said  to  one 
who  mocked  him  in  the  great  rest-house  on  the 
Jhelum  road:  'Go  on,  my  brother,  and  finish  that 
I  have  begun,'  and  he  who  mocked  took  up  the 
tale,  but  having  neither  voice  nor  manner  for  the 
task,  came  to  a  standstill,  and  the  pilgrims  at  sup- 
per made  him  eat  abu^e  and  stick  half  that  night." 

"  Nay,  but  with  our  people,  money  having 
passed,  it  is  their  right;  as  we  should  turn  against 
a  shoeseller  in  regard  to  shoes  if  those  wore  out. 
If  ever  I  make  a  book  you  shall  see  and  judge." 

"  And  the  parrot  said  to  the  falling  tree.  Wait, 
brother,  till  I  fetch  a  prop ! "  said  Gobind  with  a 
grim  chuckle.  "  God  has  given  me  eighty  years, 
and  it  may  be  some  over.  I  cannot  look  for  more 
than  day  granted  by  day  and  as  a  favour  at  this 
tide.    Be  swift." 

"  In  what  manner  is  it  best  to  set  about  the 
task,"  said  I,  "O  chiefest  of  those  who  string 
pearls  with  their  tongue  *?  " 

"  How  do  I  know  ?  Yet "  —  he  thought  for  a 
little  — "  how  should  I  not  know  God  has  made 
very  many  heads,  but  there  is  only  one  heart  in  all 
the  world  among  your  people  or  my  people.  They 
are  children  in  the  matter  of  tales." 

"  But  none  are  so  terrible  as  the  little  ones,  if  a 
man  misplace  a  word,  or  in  a  second  telling  vary 
events  by  so  much  as  one  small  devil." 

"Ay,  I  also  have  told  tales  to  the  little  ones, 
ix 


PREFACE 


but  do  thou  this — "  His  old  eyes  fell  on  the 
gaudy  paintings  of  the  wall,  the  blue  and  red 
dome,  and  the  flames  of  the  poinsettias  beyond. 
"Tell  them  first  of  those  things  that  thou  hast 
seen  and  they  have  seen  together.  Thus  their 
knowledge  will  piece  out  thy  imperfections.  Tell 
them  of  what  thou  alone  hast  seen,  then  what 
thou  hast  heard,  and  since  they  be  children  tell 
them  of  battles  and  kings,  horses,  devils,  elephants, 
and  angels,  but  omit  not  to  tell  them  of  love  and 
such  like.  All  the  earth  is  full  of  tales  to  him  who 
listens  and  does  not  drive  away  the  poor  from  his 
door.  The  poor  are  the  best  of  tale-tellers;  for 
they  must  lay  their  ear  to  the  ground  every  night." 

After  this  conversation  the  idea  grew  in  my 
head,  and  Gobind  was  pressing  in  his  inquiries  as 
to  the  health  of  the  book. 

Later,  when  we  had  been  parted  for  months,  it 
happened  that  I  was  to  go  away  and  far  off,  and 
I  came  to  bid  Gobind  good-bye. 

"  It  is  farewell  between  us  now,  for  I  go  a  very 
long  journey,"  I  said. 

"And  I  also.  A  longer  one  than  thou.  But 
what  of  the  book  ?  "  said  he. 

"  It  will  be  born  in  due  season  if  it  is  so  or- 
dained." 

"I  would  I  could  see  it,"  said  the  old  man, 
huddling  beneath  his  quilt.  "But  that  will  not 
be.    I  die  three  days  hence,  in  the  night,  a  littk 

X 


PREFACE 


before  the  dawn.  The  term  of  my  years  is  ac- 
complished." 

In  nine  cases  out  of  ten  a  native  makes  no  mis- 
calculation as  to  the  day  of  his  death.  He  has 
the  foreknowledge  of  the  beasts  in  this  respect. 

"  Then  thou  wilt  depart  in  peace,  and  it  is  good 
talk,  for  thou  hast  said  that  life  is  no  delight  to 
thee." 

"  But  it  is  a  pity  that  our  book  is  not  born. 
How  shall  I  know  that  there  is  any  record  of  my 
name  ?  " 

"Because  I  promise,  in  the  forepart  of  the  book, 
preceding  everything  else,  that  it  shall  be  written, 
Gobind,  sadhu,  of  the  island  in  the  river  and 
awaiting  God  in  Dhunni  Bhagat's  Chubara,  first 
spoke  of  the  book,"  said  I. 

"And  gave  counsel  —  an  old  man's  counsel. 
Gobind,  son  of  Gobind  of  the  Chumi  village  in 
the  Karaon  tehsil,  in  the  district  of  Mooltan.  Will 
that  be  written  also  ?  " 

"  That  will  be  written  also." 

"And  the  book  will  go  across  the  Black  Water 
to  the  houses  of  your  people,  and  all  the  Sahibs 
will  know  of  me  who  am  eighty  years  old  *?  " 

"All  who  read  the  book  shall  know.  I  cannot 
promise  for  the  rest." 

"  That  is  good  talk.  Call  aloud  to  all  who  are 
in  the  monastery,  and  I  will  tell  them  this  thing." 

They  trooped  faquirs^  sadhus^  sunny asis^  hy* 
xi 


PREFACE 


ragis^  nihangs^  and  mullahs^  priests  of  all  faiths  and 
every  degree  of  raggedness,  and  Gobind,  leaning 
upon  his  crutch,  spoke  so  that  they  were  visibly 
filled  with  envy,  and  a  white-haired  senior  bade 
Gobind  think  of  his  latter  end  instead  of  transitory 
repute  in  the  mouths  of  strangers.  Then  Gobind 
gave  me  his  blessing,  and  I  came  away. 

These  tales  have  been  collected  from  all  places, 
and  all  sorts  of  people,  from  priests  in  the  Chubara, 
from  Ala  Yar  the  carver,  Jiwun  Singh  the  carpen- 
ter, nameless  men  on  steamers  and  trains  round  the 
world,  women  spinning  outside  their  cottages  in 
the  twilight,  officers  and  gentlemen  now  dead  and 
buried,  and  a  few,  but  these  are  the  very  best,  my 
father  gave  me.  The  greafer  part  of  them  have 
been  published  in  magazines  and  newspapers,  to 
whose  editors  I  am  indebted ;  but  some  are  new  on 
this  side  of  the  water,  and  some  have  not  seen  the 
light  before. 

The  most  remarkable  stories  are,  of  course,  those 
which  do  not  appear — for  obvious  reasons. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

DRAY  WARA  YOW  DEE   i 

NAM  GAY  DOOLA  17 

"THE  CITY  OF  DREADFUL  NIGHT"  .    .    „    .  35 

THE  JUDGMENT  OF  DUNGARA  46 

THE  FINANCES  OF  THE  GODS  60 

AT  HOWLI  THANA  67 

IN  FLOOD  TIME  75 

MOTI  GUJ— MUTINEER  90 

WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY  101 

NABOTH  139 

THE  SENDING  OF  DANA  DA  145 

THROUGH  THE  FIRE  161 

THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT  168 

THE  AMIR'S  HOMILY  204 

AT  TWENTY-TWO  210 

JEWS  IN  SHUSH  AN  227 

GEORGIE  PORGIE  233 

xiii 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

LITTLE  TOBRAH    247 

GEMINI   252 

THE  LIMITATIONS  OF  PAMBE  SERANG     .    .  266 

ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION   274 

FROM  "MANY  INVENTIONS." 

ON  THE  CITY  WALL   302 

THE  ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P.  .  340 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

ON  THE  CITY  WALL  frontispiece 

THE  JUDGMENT  OF  DUNGARA .  .  .  .  page  52 
THE  SENDING  OF  DANA  DA  158 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


DRAY  WARA  YOW  DEE 


For  jealousy  is  the  rage  of  a  man :  therefore  he  will  not 


LMONDS  and  raisins,  Sahib?    Grapes  from 


l\,  Kabul?  Or  a  pony  of  the  rarest  if  the 
Sahib  will  only  come  w^ith  me.  He  is  thirteen 
three.  Sahib,  plays  polo,  goes  in  a  cart,  carries  a 
lady  and — Holy  Kurshed  and  the  Blessed  Imams, 
it  is  the  Sahib  himself!  My  heart  is  made  fat  and 
my  eye  glad.  May  you  never  be  tired!  As  is 
cold  water  in  the  Tirah,  so  is  the  sight  of  a  friend 
in  a  far  place.  And  what  do  jot/  in  this  accursed 
land  ?  South  of  Delhi,  Sahib,  you  know  the  say- 
ing —  "  Rats  are  the  men  and  trulls  the  women." 
It  was  an  order  ?  Ahoo !  An  order  is  an  order 
till  one  is  strong  enough  to  disobey.  O  my 
brother,  O  my  friend,  we  have  met  in  an  auspicious 
hour !  Is  all  well  in  the  heart  and  the  body  and 
the  house  ?  In  a  lucky  day  have  we  two  come 
together  again. 


spare  in  the  day  of  vengeance.  —  Prov,  vi.  34. 


1 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


I  am  to  go  with  you?  Your  favour  is  great. 
Will  there  be. picket-room  in  the  compound?  I 
have  three  horses  and  the  bundles  and  the  horse- 
boy. Moreover,  remember  that  the  police  here 
hold  me  a  horse-thief.  What  do  these  Lowland 
bastards  know  of  horse-thieves  ?  Do  you  remem- 
ber that  time  in  Peshawur  when  Kamal  hammered 
on  the  gates  of  Jumrud  —  mountebank  that  he 
was  —  and  lifted  the  Colonel's  horses  all  in  one 
night  ?  Kamal  is  dead  now,  biit  his  nephew  has 
taken  up  the  matter,  and  there  will  be  more  horses 
amissing  if  the  Khaiber  Levies  do  not  look  to  it. 

The  Peace  of  God  and  the  favour  of  His 
Prophet  be  upon  this  house  and  all  that  is  in  it! 
Shafizullah,  rope  the  mottled  mare  under  the  tree 
and  draw  water.  The  horses  can  stand  in  the  sun, 
but  double  the  felts  over  the  loins.  Nay,  my 
friend,  do  not  trouble  to  look  them  over.  They 
are  to  sell  to  the  OfBcer  fools  who  know  so  many 
things  of  the  horse.  The  mare  is  heavy  in  foal ; 
the  gray  is  a  devil  unlicked;  and  the  dun  —  but 
you  know  the  trick  of  the  peg.  When  they  are 
sold  I  go  back  to  Pubbi,  or,  it  may  be,  the  Valley 
of  Peshawur. 

O  friend  of  my  heart,  it  is  good  to  see  you 
again.  I  have  been  bowing  and  lying  all  day  to 
the  Officer  Sahibs  in  respect  to  those  horses ;  and 
my  mouth  is  dry  for  straight  talk.  Auggrhl 
Before  a  meal  tobacco  is  good.    Do  not  join  me, 

2 


DRAY  WARA  YOW  DEE 


for  we  are  not  In  our  own  country.  Sit  in  the 
verandah  and  I  will  spread  my  cloth  here.  But 
first  I  will  drink.  In  the  name  of  God  returning 
thanks^  thrice!  This  is  sweet  water,  indeed  — 
sweet  as  the  water  of  Sheoran  when  it  comes  from 
the  snows. 

They  are  all  well  and  pleased  in  the  North  — 
Khoda  Baksh  and  the  others.  Yar  Khan  has 
come  down  with  the  horses  from  Kurdistan  —  six 
and  thirty  head  only,  and  a  full  half  pack-ponies 
—  and  has  said  openly  in  the  Kashmir  Serai  that 
you  English  should  send  guns  and  blow  the  Amir 
into  Hell.  There  are  fifteen  tolls  now  on  the 
Kabul  road ;  and  at  Dakka,  when  he  thought  he 
was  clear,  Yar  Khan  was  stripped  of  all  his  Balkh 
stallions  by  the  Governor !  This  is  a  great  in- 
justice, and  Yar  Khan  is  hot  with  rage.  And  of 
the  others :  Mahbub  Ali  is  still  at  Pubbi,  writing 
God  knows  what.  Tugluq  Khan  is  in  jail  for  the 
business  of  the  Kohat  Police  Post.  Faiz  Beg 
came  down  from  Ismail-ki-Dhera  with  a  Bokhariot 
belt  for  thee,  my  brother,  at  the  closing  of  the  year, 
but  none  knew  whither  thou  hadst  gone :  there 
was  ho  news  left  behind.  The  Cousins  have  taken 
a  new  run  near  Pakpattan  to  breed  mules  for  the 
Government  carts,  and  there  is  a  story  in  Bazar  of 
a  priest.    Oho  I    Such  a  salt  tale !  Listen  

Sahib,  why  do  you  ask  that  ?  My  clothes  are 
fouled  because  of  the  dust  on  the  road.    My  eyes 

3 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


are  sad  because  of  the  glare  of  the  sun.  My  feet 
are  swollen  because  I  have  washed  them  in  bitter 
water,  and  my  cheeks  are  hollow  because  the  food 
here  is  bad.  Fire  burn  your  money!  What  do 
I  want  with  it?  I  am  rich  and  I  thought  you 
were  my  friend ;  but  you  are  like  the  others  —  a 
Sahib.  Is  a  man  sad  ?  Give  him  money,  say  the 
Sahibs.  Is  he  dishonoured?  Give  him  money, 
say  the  Sahibs.  Hath  he  a  wrong  upon  his  head  *? 
Give  him  money,  say  the  Sahibs.  Such  are  the 
Sahibs,  and  such  art  thou — even  thou. 

Nay,  do  not  look  at  the  feet  of  the  dun.  Pity 
it  is  that  I  ever  taught  you  to  know  the  legs  of 
a  horse.  Footsore?  Be  it  so.  What  of  that? 
The  roads  are  hard.  And  the  mare  footsore  ? 
She  bears  a  double  burden,  Sahib. 

And  now  I  pray  you,  give  me  permission  to 
depart.  Great  favour  and  honour  has  the  Sahib 
done  me,  and  graciously  has  he  shown  his  belief 
that  the  horses  are  stolen.  Will  it  please  him  to 
send  me  to  the  Thana  ?  To  call  a  sweeper  and 
have  me  led  away  by  one  of  these  lizard-men  ? 
I  am  the  Sahib's  friend.  I  have  drunk  water  in 
the  shadow  of  his  house,  and  he  has  blackened  my 
face.  Remains  there  anything  more  to  do  ?  Will 
the  Sahib  give  me  eight  annas  to  make  smooth  the 
injury  and  —  complete  the  insult  ? 

Forgive  me,  my  brother.  I  knew  not — I  know 
not  now  —  what  I  say.    Yes,  I  lied  to  you!  I 

4 


DRAY  WARA  YOW  DEE 


will  put  dust  on  my  head  —  and  I  am  an  Afridi ! 
The  horses  have  been  marched  footsore  from  the 
Valley  to  this  place,  and  my  eyes  are  dim,  and  my 
body  aches  for  the  want  of  sleep,  and  my  heart  is 
dried  up  with  sorrow  and  shame.  But  as  it  was 
my  shame,  so  by  God  the  Dispenser  of  Justice  — 
by  Allah-al-Mumit  —  it  shall  be  my  own  revenge ! 

We  have  spoken  together  with  naked  hearts 
before  this,  and  our  hands- have  dipped  into  the 
same  dish  and  thou  hast  been  to  me  as  a  brother. 
Therefore  I  pay  thee  back  with  lies  and  ingrati- 
tude—  as  a  Pathan.  Listen  now!  When  the 
grief  of  the  soul  is  too  heavy  for  endurance  it 
may  be  a  little  eased  by  speech,  and,  moreover, 
the  mind  of  a  true  man  is  as  a  well,  and  the  peb- 
ble of  confession  dropped  therein  sinks  and  is  no 
more  seen.  From  the  Valley  have  I  come  on 
foot,  league  by  league,  with  a  fire  in  my  chest 
like  the  fire  of  the  Pit.  And  why  ?  Hast  thou, 
then,  so  quickly  forgotten  our  customs,  among 
this  folk  who  sell  their  wives  and  their  daughters 
for  silver  ?  Come  back  with  me  to  the  North 
and  be  among  men  once  more.  Come  back, 
when  this  matter  is  accomplished  and  I  call  for 
thee  !  The  bloom  of  the  peach-orchards  is  upon 
all  the  Valley,  and  here  is  only  dust  and  a  great 
stink.  There  is  a  pleasant  wind  among  the  mul- 
berry trees,  and  the  streams  are  bright  with  snow- 
water, and  the  caravans  go  up  and  the  caravans  go 

5 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


down,  and  a  hundred  fires  sparkle  in  the  gut  of 
the  Pass,  and  tent-peg  answers  hammer-nose,  and 
pack-horse  squeals  to  pack-horse  across  the  drift 
smoke  of  the  evening.  It  is  good  in  the  North 
now.  Come  back  with  me.  Let  us  return  to  our 
own  people  I    Come  ! 

•  ••••• 

Whence  is  my  sorrow  Does  a  man  tear  out 
his  heart  and  make  fritters  thereof  over  a  slow  fire 
for  aught  other  than  a  woman  Do  not  laugh, 
friend  of  mine,  for  your  time  will  also  be.  A  woman 
of  the  Abazai  was  she,  and  I  took  her  to  wife  to 
staunch  the  feud  between  our  village  and  the  men 
of  Ghor.  I  am  no  longer  young  ?  The  lime  has 
touched  my  beard  ?  True.  I  had  no  need  of  the 
wedding^  Nay,  but  I  loved  her.  What  saith 
Rahman :  "  Into  whose  heart  Love  enters,  there  is 
Folly  and  naught  else.  By  a  glance  of  the  eye  she 
hath  blinded  thee;  and  by  the  eyelids  and  the 
fringe  of  the  eyelids  taken  thee  into  the  captivity 
without  ransom,  and  naught  else.''  Dost  thou  re- 
member that  song  at  the  sheep-roasting  in  the 
Pindi  camp  among  the  Uzbegs  of  the  Amir  ? 

The  Abazai  are  dogs  and  their  women  the  ser- 
vants of  sin.  There  was  a  lover  of  her  own  people, 
but  of  that  her  father  told  me  naught.  My  friend, 
curse  for  me  in  your  prayers,  as  I  curse  at  each 
praying  from  the  Fakr  to  the  Isha,  the  name  of 
Daoud  Shah,  Abazai,  whose  head  is  still  upon  his 

6 


DRAY  WARA  YOW  DEE 


neck,  whose  hands  are  still  upon  his  wrists,  who 
has  done  me  dishonour,  who  has  made  my  name 
a  laughing-stock  among  the  women  of  Little 
Malikand. 

I  went  into  Hindustan  at  the  end  of  two  months 
—  to  Cherat.  I  was  gone  twelve  days  only;  but 
I  had  said  that  I  would  be  fifteen  days  absent. 
This  I  did  to  try  her,  for  it  is  written :  "  Trust  not 
the  incapable."  Coming  up  the  gorge  alone  in  the 
falling  of  the  light,  I  heard  the  voice  of  a  man 
singing  at  the  door  of  my  house ;  and  it  was  the 
voice  of  Daoud  Shah,  and  the  song  that  he  sang 
was  "  Dray  ivara  yow  dee  "  —  "  All  three  are  one." 
It  was  as  though  a  heel-rope  had  been  slipped  round 
my  heart  and  all  the  Devils  were  drawing  it  tight 
past  endurance.  I  crept  silently  up  the  hill-road, 
but  the  fuse  of  my  matchlock  was  wetted  with  the 
rain,  and  I  could  not  slay  Daoud  Shah  from  afar. 
Moreover,  it  was  in  my  mind  to  kill  the  woman 
also.  Thus  he  sang,  sitting  outside  my  house,  and, 
anon,  the  woman  opened  the  door,  and  J  came 
nearer,  crawling  on  my  belly  among  the  rocks.  I 
had  only  my  knife  to  my  hand.  But  a  stone  slipped 
under  my  foot,  and  the  two  looked  down  the  hill- 
side, and  he,  leaving  his  matchlock,  fled  from  my 
anger,  because  he  was  afraid  for  the  life  that  was 
in  him.  But  the  woman  moved  not  till  I  stood  in 
front  of  her,  crying:  "O  woman,  what  is  this  that 
thou  hast  done  ?  "    And  she,  void  of  fear,  though 

7 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


she  knew  my  thought,  laughed,  saying :  "  It  is  a 
little  thing.  I  loved  him,  and  thou  art  a  dog  and 
cattle-thief  coming  by  night.  Strike  ! "  And  I, 
being  still  blinded  by  her  beauty,  for,  O  my  friend, 
the  women  of  the  Abazai  are  very  fair,  said :  "  Hast 
thou  no  fear  ?  "  And  she  answered :  "  None  — 
but  only  the  fear  that  I  do  not  die."  Then  said 
I :  "  Have  no  fear."  And  she  bowed  her  head, 
and  I  smote  it  off  at  the  neck-bone  so  that  it  leaped 
between  my  feet.  Thereafter  the  rage  of  our  peo- 
ple came  upon  me,  and  I  hacked  off  the  breasts, 
that  the  men  of  Little  Malikand  might  know  the 
crime,  and  cast  the  body  into  the  water-course 
that  flows  to  the  Kabul  river.  Dray  wara  yaw 
dee!  Dray  wara  yow  dee!  The  body  without 
the  head,  the  soul  without  light,  and  my  own 
darkling  heart  —  all  three  are  one  —  all  three  are 
one ! 

That  night,  making  no  halt,  I  went  to  Ghor  and 
demanded  news  of  Daoud  Shah.  Men  said:  "He 
is  gone  to  Pubbi  for  horses.  What  wouldst  thou 
of  him  ?  There  is  peace  between  the  villages.*' 
I  made  answer :  "  Aye  !  The  peace  of  treachery 
and  the  love  that  the  Devil  Atala  bore  to  Gurel." 
So  I  fired  thrice  into  the  gate  and  laughed  and 
went  my  way. 

In  those  hours,  brother  and  friend  of  my  heart's 
heart,  the  moon  and  the  stars  were  as  blood  above 
me,  and  in  my  mouth  was  the  taste  of  dry  earth. 

8 


DRAY  WARA  YOW  DEE 


Also,  I  broke  no  bread,  and  my  drink  was  the  rain 
of  the  Valley  of  Ghor  upon  my  face. 

At  Pubbi  I  found  Mahbub  Ali,  the  writer,  sit- 
ting upon  his  charpoy,  and  gave  up  my  arms  ac- 
cording to  your  Law.  But  I  was  not  grieved,  for 
it  was  in  my  heart  that  I  should  kill  Daoud  Shah 
with  my  bare  hands  thus  —  as  a  man  strips  a  bunch 
of  raisins.  Mahbub  Ali  said  ;  "  Daoud  Shah  has 
even  now  gone  hot-foot  to  Peshawur,  and  he  will 
pick  up  his  horses  upon  the  road  to  Delhi,  for  it 
is  said  that  the  Bombay  Tramway  Company  are 
buying  horses  there  by  the  rruck-load ;  eight  horses 
to  the  truck."    And  that  was  a  true  saying. 

Then  I  saw  that  the  hunting  would  be  no  little 
thing,  for  the  man  was  gone  into  your  borders 
to  save  himself  against  my  wrath.  And  shall  he 
save  himself  so  ?  Am  I  not  alive  ^  Though  he 
run  northward  to  the  Dora  and  the  snow,  or  south- 
erly to  the  Black  Water,  I  will  follow  him,  as  a 
lover  follows  the  footsteps  of  his  mistress,  and  com- 
ing upon  him  I  will  take  him  tenderly  —  Aho !  so 
tenderly! — in  my  arms,  saying:  "Well  hast  thou 
done  and  well  shalt  thou  be  repaid."  And  out  of 
that  embrace  Daoud  Shah  shall  not  go  forth  with 
the  breath  in  his  nostrils.  Auggrh  !  Where  is  the 
pitcher I  am  as  thirsty  as  a  mother-mare  in  the 
first  month. 

Your  Law !  What  is  your  Law  to  me When 
the  horses  fight  on  the  runs  do  they  regard  the 

9 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


boundary  pillars;  or  do  the  kites  of  Ali  Musjid 
forbear  because  the  carrion  lies  under  the  shadow 
of  the  Ghor  Kuttri The  matter  began  across 
the  Border.  It  shall  finish  where  God  pleases. 
Here,  in  my  own  country,  or  in  Hell.  All  three 
are  one. 

Listen  now,  sharer  of  the  sorrow  of  my  heart, 
and  I  will  tell  of  the  hunting.  I  followed  to  Pe- 
shawur  from  Pubbi,  and  I  went  to  and  fro  about 
the  streets  of  Peshawur  like  a  houseless  dog,  seek- 
ing for  my  enemy.  Once  I  thought  that  I  saw 
him  washing  his  mouth  in  the  conduit  in  the  big 
square,  but  when  I  came  up  he  was  gone.  It  may 
be  that  it  was  he,  and,  seeing  my  face,  he  had  fled. 

A  girl  of  the  bazar  said  that  he  would  go  to 
Nowshera.  I  said :  "  O  heart's  heart,  does  Daoud 
Shah  visit  thee  ?  "  And  she  said  :  "  Even  so."  I 
said  :  "  I  would  fain  see  him,  for  we  be  friends 
parted  for  two  years.  Hide  me,  I  pray,  here  in 
the  shadow  of  the  window  shutter,  and  I  will  wait 
for  his  coming."  And  the  girl  said :  "  O  Pathan, 
look  into  my  eyes  !  "  And  I  turned,  leaning  upon 
her  breast,  and  looked  into  her  ,eyes,  swearing  that 
I  spoke  the  very  Truth  of  God.  But  she  answered ; 
"  Never  friend  waited  friend  with  such  eyes.  Lie 
to  God  and  the  Prophet,  but  to  a  woman  ye  can- 
not lie.  Get  hence  I  There  shall  no  harm  befall 
Daoud  Shah  by  cause  of  me." 

I  would  have  strangled  that  girl  but  for  the  feat 
lo 


DRAY  WARA  YOW  DEE 


of  your  Police;  and  thus  the  hunting  would  have 
come  to  naught.  Therefore  I  only  laughed  and 
departed,  and  she  leaned  over  the  window-bar  in 
the  night  and  mocked  me  down  the  street.  Her 
name  is  Jamun.  When  I  have  made  my  account 
with  the  man  I  will  return  to  Peshawur  and — her 
lovers  shall  desire  her  no  more  for  her  beauty's 
sake.  She  shall  not  be  Jamun^  but  Ah^  the  cripple 
among  trees.    Ho  !    Ho !    Al  shall  she  be ! 

At  Peshawur  I  bought  the  horses  and  grapes, 
and  the  almonds  and  dried  fruits,  that  the  reason 
of  my  wanderings  might  be  open  to  the  Govern- 
ment, and  that  there  might  be  no  hindrance  upon 
the  road.  But  when  I  came  to  Nowshera  he  was 
gone,  and  I  knew  not  where  to  go.  I  stayed  one 
day  at  Nowshera,  and  in  the  night  a  Voice  spoke 
in  my  ears  as  I  slept  among  the  horses.  All  night 
it  flew  round  my  head  and  would  not  cease  from 
whispering.  I  was  upon  my  belly,  sleeping  as 
the  Devils  sleep,  and  it  may  have  been  that  the 
Voice  was  the  voice  of  a  Devil.  It  said :  "  Go 
south,  and  thou  shalt  come  upon  Daoud  Shah." 
Listen,  my  brother  and  chiefest  among  friends  — 
listen !  Is  the  tale  a  long  one  ?  Think  how  it  was 
long  to  me.  I  have  trodden  every  league  of  the 
road  from  Pubbi  to  this  place;  and  from  Now- 
shera my  guide  was  only  the  Voice  and  the  lust 
of  vengeance. 

To  the  Uttock  I  went,  but  that  was  no  hin- 
1 1 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


drance  to  me.  Ho !  Ho !  A  man  may  turn  the 
word  twice,  even  in  his  trouble.  The  Uttock 
was  no  uttocl  [obstacle]  to  me;  and  I  heard  the 
Voice  above  the  noise  of  the  waters  beating  on 
the  big  rock,  saying:  "Go  to  the  right."  So  I 
went  to  Pindigheb,  and  in  those  days  my  sleep 
was  taken  from  me  utterly,  and  the  head  of  the 
woman  of  the  Abazai  was  before  me  night  and 
day,  even  as  it  had  fallen  between  my  feet.  Dray 
war  a  yow  dee!  Dray  war  a  yow  dee!  Fire,  ashes, 
and  my  couch,  all  three  are  one  —  all  three  are 
one ! 

Now  I  was  far  from  the  winter  path  of  the  deal- 
ers who  had  gone  to  Sialkot  and  so  south  by  the 
rail  and  the  Big  Road  to  the  line  of  cantonments ; 
but  there  was  a  Sahib  in  camp  at  Pindigheb  who 
bought  from  me  a  white  mare  at  a  good  price, 
and  told  me  that  one  Daoud  Shah  had  passed  to 
Shahpur  with  horses.  Then  I  saw  that  the  warn- 
ing of  the  Voice  was  true,  and  made  swift  to  come 
to  the  Salt  Hills.  The  Jhelum  was  in  flood,  but 
I  could  not  wait,  and,  in  the  crossing,  a  bay  stal- 
lion was  washed  down  and  drowned.  Herein 
was  God  hard  to  me  —  not  in  respect  of  the  beast, 
of  that  I  had  no  care  —  but  in  this  snatching. 
While  I  was  upon  the  right  bank  urging  the 
horses  into  the  water,  Daoud  Shah  was  upon  the 
left;  for  —  Alghias !  Alghias !  —  the  hoofs  of  my 
mare  scattered  the  hot  ashes  of  his  fires  when  we 

12 


DRAY  WARA  YOW  DEE 


came  up  the  hither  bank  in  the  light  of  morning. 
But  he  had  fled.  His  feet  were  made  swift  by 
the  terror  of  Death.  And  I  went  south  from 
Shahpur  as  the  kite  flies.  I  dared  not  turn  aside, 
lest  I  should  miss  my  vengeance  —  which  is  my 
right.  From  Shahpur  I  skirted  by  the  Jhelum, 
for  I  thought  that  he  would  avoid  the  Desert  of 
the  Rechna.  But,  presently,  at  Sahiwal,  I  turned 
away  upon  the  road  to  Jhang,  Samundri,  and 
Gugera,  till,  upon  a  night,  the  mottled  mare 
breasted  the  fence  of  the  rail  that  runs  to  Mont- 
gomery. And  that  place  was  Okara,  and  the  head 
of  the  woman  of  the  Abazai  lay  upon  the  sand 
between  my  feet. 

Thence  I  went  to  Fazilka,  and  they  said  that 
I  was  mad  to  bring  starved  horses  there.  The 
Voice  was  with  me,  and  I  was  not  mad,  but  only 
wearied,  because  I  could  not  find  Daoud  Shah. 
It  was  written  that  I  should  not  find  him  at  Rania 
nor  Bahadurgarh,  and  I  came  into  Delhi  from  the 
west,  and  there  also  I  found  him  not.  My  friend, 
I  have  seen  many  strange  things  in  my  wander- 
ings. I  have  seen  Devils  rioting  across  the  Rechna 
as  the  stallions  riot  in  spring.  I  have  heard  the 
Djinns  calling  to  each  other  from  holes  in  the 
sand,  and  I  have  seen  them  pass  before  my  face. 
There  are  no  Devils,  say  the  Sahibs  ?  They  are 
very  wise,  but  they  do  not  know  all  things  about 
devils  or  —  horses.    Ho!  Ho!  I  say  to  you  who 

•3 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


are  laughing  at  my  misery,  that  I  have  seen  the 
Devils  at  high  noon  whooping  and  leaping  on  the 
shoals  of  the  Chenab.  And  was  I  afraid?  My 
brother,  when  the  desire  of  a  man  is  set  upon  one 
thing  alone,  he  fears  neither  God  nor  Man  nor 
Devil.  If  my  vengeance  failed,  I  would  splinter 
the  Gates  of  Paradise  with  the  butt  of  my  gun,  or 
I  would  cut  my  way  into  Hell  with  my  knife, 
and  I  would  call  upon  Those  who  Govern  there 
for  the  body  of  Daoud  Shah.  What  love  so  deep 
as  hate 

Do  not  speak.  I  know  the  thought  in  your 
heart.  Is  the  white  of  this  eye  clouded*?  How 
does  the  blood  beat  at  the  wrist?  There  is  no 
madness  in  my  flesh,  but  only  the  vehemence 
of  the  desire  that  has  eaten  me  up.    Listen  I 

South  of  Delhi  I  knew  not  the  country  at  all. 
Therefore  I  cannot  say  where  I  went,  but  I  passed 
through  many  cities.  I  knew  only  that  it  was  laid 
upon  me  to  go  south.  When  the  horses  could 
march  no  more,  I  threw  myself  upon  the  earth, 
and  waited  till  the  day.  There  was  no  sleep  with 
me  in  that  journeying ;  and  that  was  a  heavy  bur- 
den. Dost  thou  know,  brother  of  mine,  the  evil  of 
wakefulness  that  cannot  break  —  when  the  bones 
are  sore  for  lack  of  sleep,  and  the  skin  of  the  tem- 
ples twitches  with  weariness,  and  yet  —  there  is  no 
sleep — there  is  no  sleep?  Dray  wara  yow  dee! 
Dray  wara  yow  dee  !    The  eye  of  the  Sun,  the  eye 

14 


DRAY  WARA  YOW  DEE 


of  the  Moon,  and  -my  own  unrestful  eyes  —  all 
three  are  one  —  all  three  are  one  I 

There  was  a  city  the  name  whereof  I  have  for- 
gotten, and  there  the  Voice  called  all  night.  That 
was  ten  days  ago.    It  has  cheated  me  afresh. 

I  have  come  hither  from  a  place  called  Hamir- 
pur,  and,  behold,  it  is  my  Fate  that  I  should  meet 
with  thee  to  my  comfort  and  the  increase  of  friend- 
ship. This  is  a  good  omen.  By  the  joy  of  look- 
ing upon  thy  face  the  weariness  has  gone  from  my 
feet,  and  the  sorrow  of  my  so  long  travel  is  for- 
gotten. Also  my  heart  is  peaceful;  for  I  know 
that  the  end  is  near. 

It  may  be  that  I  shall  find  Daoud  Shah  in  this 
city  going  northward,  since  a  Hillman  will  ever 
head  back  to  his  Hills  when  the  spring  warns. 
And  shall  he  see  those  hills  of  our  country? 
Surely  I  shall  overtake  him  I  Surely  my  ven- 
geance is  safe !  Surely  God  hath  him  in  the  hol- 
low of  His  hand  against  my  claiming.  There 
shall  no  harm  befall  D?.oud  Shah  till  I  come ;  for 
I  would  fain  kill  him  quick  and  whole  with  the 
life  sticking  firm  in  his  body.  A  pomegranate  is 
sweetest  when  the  cloves  break  away  unwilling 
from  the  rind.  Let  it  be  in  the  daytime,  that  I 
may  see  his  face,  and  my  delight  may  be  crowned. 

And  when  I  have  accomplished  the  matter  and 
my  Honour  is  made  clean,  I  shall  return  thanks 
unto  God,  the  Holder  of  the  Scale  of  the  Law, 

i5 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


and  I  shall  sleep.  From  the  night,  through  the 
day,  and  into  the  night  again  I  shall  sleep;  and 
no  dream  shall  trouble  me. 

And  now,  O  my  brother,  the  tale  is  all  told. 
Ahil  Ahil  Alghiasl  Ahil 


16 


NAMGAY  DOOLA 


There  came  to  the  beach  a  poor  exile  of  Erin, 
The  dew  on  his  wet  robe  hung  heavy  and  chill ; 

Ere  the  steamer  that  brought  him  had  passed  out  of  hearin*. 
He  was  Alderman  Mike  inthrojuicin*  a  bill  ! 

American  Song. 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  King  who  lived  on 
the  road  to  Thibet,  very  many  miles  in  the  Hima- 
layas. His  Kingdom  was  eleven  thousand  feet 
above  the  sea  and  exactly  four  miles  square ;  but 
most  of  the  miles  stood  on  end  owing  to  the  na- 
ture of  the  country.  His  revenues  were  rather  less 
than  four  hundred  pounds  yearly,  and  they  were 
expended  in  the  maintenance  of  one  elephant  and 
a  standing  army  of  five  men.  He  was  tributary 
to  the  Indian  Government,  who  allowed  him  cer- 
tain sums  for  keeping  a  section  of  the  Himalaya- 
Thibet  road  in  repair.  He  further  increased  his 
revenues  by  selling  timber  to  the  railway-com- 
panies ;  for  he  would  cut  the  great  deodar  trees  in 
his  one  forest,  and  they  fell  thundering  into  the 
Sutlej  river  and  were  swept  down  to  the  plains 
three  hundred  miles  away  and  became  railway- 
ties.    Now  and  again  this  King,  whose  name  does 

17 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


not  matter,  would  mount  a  ringstraked  horse  and 
ride  scores  of  miles  to  Simla-town  to  confer  with 
the  Lieutenant-Governor  on  matters  of  state,  or  to 
assure  the  Viceroy  that  his  sword  was  at  the  ser- 
vice of  the  Queen-Empress.  Then  the  Viceroy 
would  cause  a  ruffle  of  drums  to  be  sounded,  and 
the  ringstraked  horse  and  the  cavalry  of  the  State 
— two  men  in  tatters — and  the  herald  who  bore 
the  silver  stick  before  the  King  would  trot  back 
to  their  own  place,  which  lay  between  the  tail 
of  a  heaven-climbing  glacier  and  a  dark  birch- 
forest. 

Now,  from  such  a  King,  always  remembering 
that  he  possessed  one  veritable  elephant,  and  could 
count  his  descent  for  twelve  hundred  years,  I  ex- 
pected, when  it  was  my  fate  to  wander  through  his 
dominions,  no  more  than  mere  license  to  live. 

The  night  had  closed  in  rain,  and  rolling  clouds 
blotted  out  the  lights  of  the  villages  in  the  valley. 
Forty  miles  away,  untouched  by  cloud  or  storm, 
the  white  shoulder  of  Donga  Pa  —  the  Mountain 
of  the  Council  of  the  Gods  —  upheld  the  Evening 
Star.  The  monkeys  sang  sorrowfully  to  each  other 
as  they  hunted  for  dry  roosts  in  the  fern-wreathed 
trees,  and  the  last  puff  of  the  day-wind  brought 
from  the  unseen  villages  the  scent  of  damp  wood- 
smoke,  hot  cakes,  dripping  undergrowth,  and  rot- 
ting pine-cones.  That  is  the  true  smell  of  the 
Himalayas,  and  if  once  it  creeps  into  the  blood  of 

18 


NAMGAY  DOOLA 


a  man,  that  man  will  at  the  last,  forgetting  all  else, 
return  to  the  hills  to  die.  The  clouds  closed  and 
the  smell  went  away,  and  there  remained  nothing 
in  all  the  world  except  chilling  white  mist  and  the 
boom  of  the  Sutlej  river  racing  through  the  valley 
below.  A  fat-tailed  sheep,  who  did  not  want  to 
die,  bleated  piteously  at  my  tent  door.  He  was 
scuffling  with  the  Prime  Minister  and  the  Direc- 
tor-General of  Public  Education,  and  he  was  a 
royal  gift  to  me  and  my  camp  servants.  I  ex- 
pressed my  thanks  suitably,  and  asked  if  I  might 
have  audience  of  the  King.  The  Prime  Minister 
readjusted  his  turban,  which  had  fallen  off  in  the 
struggle,  and  assured  me  that  the  King  would  be 
very  pleased  to  see  me.  Therefore  I  despatched 
two  bottles  as  a  foretaste,  and  when  the  sheep  had 
entered  upon  another  incarnation  went  to  the 
King's  Palace  through  the  wet.  He  had  sent  his 
army  to  escort  me,  but  the  army  stayed  to  talk 
with  my  cook.  Soldiers  are  very  much  alike  all 
the  world  over. 

The  Palace  was  a  four-roomed  and  whitewashed 
mud  and  timber  house,  the  finest  in  all  the  hills 
for  a  day's  journey.  The  King  was  dressed  in  a 
purple  velvet  jacket,  white  muslin  trousers,  and  a 
saffron-yellow  turban  of  price.  He  gave  me  au- 
dience in  a  little  carpeted  room  opening  off  the 
palace  courtyard  which  was  occupied  by  the  Ele- 
phant of  State.    The  great  beast  was  sheeted  and 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


anchored  from  trunk  to  tail,  and  the  curve  of  his 
back  stood  out  grandly  against  the  mist. 

The  Prime  Minister  and  the  Director-General 
of  Public  Education  were  present  to  introduce 
me,  but  all  the  court  had  been  dismissed,  lest  the 
two  bottles  aforesaid  should  corrupt  their  morals. 
The  King  cast  a  wreath  of  heavy-scented  flowers 
round  my  neck  as  I  bowed,  and  inquired  how  my 
honoured  presence  had  the  felicity  to  be.  I  said 
that  through  seeing  his  auspicious  countenance  the 
mists  of  the  night  had  turned  into  sunshine,  and 
that  by  reason  of  his  beneficent  sheep  his  good 
deeds  would  be  remembered  by  the  Gods.  He 
said  that  since  I  had  set  my  magnificent  foot  in 
his  Kingdom  the  crops  would  probably  yield  sev- 
enty per  cent,  more  than  the  average.  I  said  that 
the  fame  of  the  King  had  reached  to  the  four  cor- 
ners of  the  earth,  and  that  the  nations  gnashed  their 
teeth  when  they  heard  daily  of  the  glories  of  his 
realm  and  the  wisdom  of  his  moon-like  Prime  Min- 
ister and  lotus-like  Director-General  of  Public 
Education. 

Then  we  sat  down  on  clean  white  cushions,  and 
I  was  at  the  King's  right  hand.  Three  minutes 
later  he  was  telling  me  that  the  state  of  the  maize 
crop  was  something  disgraceful,  and  that  the  rail- 
way-companies would  not  pay  him  enough  for  his 
timber.  The  talk  shifted  to  and  fro  with  the  bot- 
tles, and  we  discussed  very  many  stately  things, 

20 


NAMGAY  DOOLA 


and  the  King  became  confidential  on  the  subject 
of  Government  generally.  Most  of  all  he  dwelt 
on  the  shortcomings  of  one  of  his  subjects,  who, 
from  all  I  could  gather,  had  been  paralyzing  the 
executive. 

"In  the  old  days,"  said  the  King,  "I  could 
have  ordered  the  Elephant  yonder  to  trample  him 
to  death.  Now  I  must  e'en  send  him  seventy 
miles  across  the  hills  to  be  tried,  and  his  keep 
would  be  upon  the  State.  The  Elephant  eats 
everything." 

"  What  be  the  man's  crimes,  Rajah  Sahib  ? " 
said  I. 

"  Firstly,  he  is  an  outlander  and  no  man  of  mine 
own  people.  Secondly,  since  of  my  favour  I  gave 
him  land  upon  his  first  coming,  he  refuses  to  pay 
revenue.  Am  I  not  the  lord  of  the  earth,  above 
and  below,  entitled  by  right  and  custom  to  one- 
eighth  of  the  crop  ?  Yet  this  devil,  establishing 
himself,  refuses  to  pay  a  single  tax ;  and  he  brings 
a  poisonous  spawn  of  babes." 

"  Cast  him  into  jail,"  I  said. 

"  Sahib,"  the  King  answered,  shifting  a  little  on 
the  cushions,  "once  and  only  once  in  these  forty 
years  sickness  came  upon  me  so  that  I  was  not  able 
to  go  abroad.  In  that  hour  I  made  a  vow  to  my 
God  that  I  would  never  again  cut  man  or  woman 
from  the  light  of  the  sun  and  the  air  of  God ;  for  I 
perceived  the  nature  of  the  punishment.  How 

21 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


can  I  break  my  vow  *?  Were  it  only  the  lopping 
of  a  hand  or  a  foot  I  should  not  delay.  But  even 
that  is  impossible  now  that  the  English  have  rule. 
One  or  another  of  my  people"  —  he  looked  ob- 
liquely at  the  Director-General  of  Public  Educa- 
tion —  "  would  at  once  write  a  letter  to  the  Viceroy, 
and  perhaps  I  should  be  deprived  of  my  ruffle  of 
drums." 

He  unscrewed  the  mouthpiece  of  his  silver  wa- 
ter-pipe, fitted  a  plain  amber  mouthpiece,  and  passed 
his  pipe  to  me.  "  Not  content  with  refusing  rev- 
enue," he  continued,  "  this  outlander  refuses  also 
the  hegar'"  (this  was  the  corvee  or  forced  labour 
on  the  roads),  "and  stirs  my  people  up  to  the  like 
treason.  Yet  he  is,  when  he  wills,  an  expert  log- 
snatcher.  There  is  none  better  or  bolder  among 
my  people  to  clear  a  block  of  the  river  when  the 
logs  stick  fast." 

"  But  he  worships  strange  Gods,"  said  the  Prime 
Minister  deferentially. 

"  For  that  I  have  no  concern,"  said  the  King, 
who  was  as  tolerant  as  Akbar  in  matters  of  belief 
"  To  each  man  his  own  God  and  the  fire  or  Mother 
Earth  for  us  all  at  last.  It  is  the  rebellion  that 
offends  me." 

"  The  King  has  an  army,"  I  suggested.  "  Has 
not  the  King  burned  the  man's  house  and  left  him 
naked  to  the  night  dews  ?  " 

"  Nay,  a  hut  is  a  hut,  and  it  holds  the  life  of  a 
22 


NAMGAY  DOOLA 


man.  But  once  I  sent  my  army  against  him  when 
his  excuses  became  wearisome :  of  their  heads  he 
brake  three  across  the  top  with  a  stick.  The  other 
two  men  ran  away.  Also  the  guns  would  not 
shoot." 

I  had  seen  the  equipment  of  the  infantry.  One- 
third  of  it  was  an  old  muzzle-loading  fowling- 
piece,  with  a  ragged  rust-hole  where  the  nipples 
should  have  been,  one-third  a  wire-bound  match- 
lock with  a  worm-eaten  stock,  and  one-third  a 
four-bore  flint  duck-gun  without  a  flint. 

"  But  it  is  to  be  remembered,"  said  the  King, 
reaching  out  for  the  bottle,  "  that  he  is  a  very  ex- 
pert log-snatcher  and  a  man  of  a  merry  face.  What 
shall  I  do  to  him.  Sahib  " 

This  was  interesting.  The  timid  hill-folk  would 
as  soon  have  refused  taxes  to  their  King  as  revenues 
to  their  Gods. 

"  If  it  be  the  King's  permission,"  I  said,  "  I  will 
not  strike  my  tents  till  the  third  day,  and  I  will  see 
this  man.  The  mercy  of  the  King  is  God-like, 
and  rebellion  is  like  unto  the  sin  of  witchcraft. 
Moreover,  both  the  bottles  and  another  be  empty." 

"  You  have  my  leave  to  go,"  said  the  King. 

Next  morning  a  crier  went  through  the  State 
proclaiming  that  there  was  a  log-jam  on  the  river, 
and  that  it  behoved  all  loyal  subjects  to  remove  it. 
The  people  poured  down  from  their  villages  to 
the  moist  warm  valley  of  poppy-fields;  and  the 

23 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


King  and  I  went  with  them.  Hundreds  of  dressed 
deodar-logs  had  caught  on  a  snag  of  rock,  and  the 
river  was  bringing  down  more  logs  every  minute 
to  complete  the  blockade.  The  water  snarled  and 
wrenched  and  worried  at  the  timber,  and  the  popu- 
lation of  the  State  began  prodding  the  nearest  logs 
with  a  pole  in  the  hope  of  starting  a  general  move- 
ment. Then  there  went  up  a  shout  of  "  Namgay 
Doola !  Namgay  Doola  ! "  and  a  large  red-haired 
villager  hurried  up,  stripping  off  his  clothes  as 
he  ran. 

"  That  is  he.  That  is  the  rebel,"  said  the  King. 
"  Now  will  the  dam  be  cleared." 

"  But  why  has  he  red  hair  ?  "  I  asked,  since 
red  hair  among  hill-folks  is  as  common  as  blue 
or  green. 

"  He  is  an  outlander,"  said  the  King.  "  Well 
done  !    Oh,  well  done  !  " 

Namgay  Doola  had  scrambled  out  on  the  jam 
and  was  clawing  out  the  butt  of  a  log  with  a  rude 
sort  of  boat-hook.  It  slid  forward  slowly  as  an 
alligator  moves,  three  or  four  others  followed  it, 
and  the  green  water  spouted  through  the  gaps 
they  had  made.  Then  the  villagers  howled  and 
shouted  and  scrambled  across  the  logs,  pulling 
and  pushing  the  obstinate  timber,  and  the  red 
head  of  Namgay  Doola  was  chief  among  them 
all.  The  logs  swayed  and  chafed  and  groaned  as 
fresh  consignments  from  up-stream  battered  the 

24 


NAMGAY  DOOLA 


new  weakening  dam.  All  gave  way  at  last  in  a 
smother  of  foam,  racing  logs,  bobbing  black  heads 
and  confusion  indescribable.  The  river  tossed 
everything  before  it.  I  saw  the  red  head  go  down 
with  the  last  remnants  of  the  jam  and  disappear  be- 
tween the  great  grinding  tree-trunks.  It  rose  close 
to  the  bank  and  blowing  like  a  grampus.  Namgay 
Doola  wrung  the  water  out  of  his  eyes  and  made 
obeisance  to  the  King.  I  had  time  to  observe  him 
closely.  The  virulent  redness  of  his  shock  head 
and  beard  was  most  startling;  and  in  the  thicket 
of  hair  wrinkled  above  high  cheek-bones  shone 
two  very  merry  blue  eyes.  He  was  indeed  an 
outlander,  but  yet  a  Thibetan  in  language,  habit, 
and  attire.  He  spoke  the  Lepcha  dialect  with  an 
indescribable  softening  of  the  gutturals.  It  was 
not  so  much  a  lisp  as  an  accent. 

"  Whence  comest  thou  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  From  Thibet."  He  pointed  across  the  hills 
and  grinned.  That  grin  went  straight  to  my 
heart.  Mechanically  I  held  out  my  hand  and 
Namgay  Doola  shook  it.  No  pure  Thibetan 
would  have  understood  the  meaning  of  the  ges- 
ture. He  went  away  to  look  for  his  clothes,  and 
as  he  climbed  back  to  his  village  I  heard  a  joyous 
yell  that  seemed  unaccountably  familiar.  It  was 
the  whooping  of  Namgay  Doola. 

"  You  see  now,"  said  the  King,  "  why  I  would 
not  kill  him.    He  is  a  bold  man  among  my  logs, 

25 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


but,"  and  he  shook  his  head  like  a  schoolmaster, 
"  I  know  that  before  long  there  will  be  complaints 
of  him  in  the  court.  Let  us  return  to  the  Palace 
and  do  justice."  It  was  that  King's  custom  to 
judge  his  subjects  every  day  between  eleven  and 
three  o'clock.  I  saw  him  decide  equitably  in 
weighty  matters  of  trespass,  slander,  and  a  little 
wife-stealing.  Then  his  brow  clouded  and  he 
summoned  me. 

"Again  it  is  Namgay  Doola,"  he  said  despair- 
ingly. "Not  content  with  refusing  revenue  on 
his  own  part,  he  has  bound  half  his  village  by  an 
oath  to  the  like  treason.  Never  before  has  such 
a  thing  befallen  me !  Nor  are  my  taxes  heavy." 

A  rabbit-faced  villager,  with  a  blush-rose  stuck 
behind  his  ear,  advanced  trembling.  He  had 
been  in  the  conspiracy,  but  had  told  everything 
and  hoped  for  the  King*s  favour. 

"  O  King,"  said  I.  "  If  it  be  the  King's  will 
let  this  matter  stand  over  till  the  morning.  Only 
the  Gods  can  do  right  swiftly,  and  it  may  be  that 
yonder  villager  has  lied." 

"Nay,  for  I  know  the  nature  of  Namgay  Doola; 
but  since  a  guest  asks  let  the  matter  remain.  Wilt 
thou  speak  harshly  to  this  red-headed  outlander? 
He  may  listen  to  thee." 

I  made  an  attempt  that  very  evening,  but  for 
the  life  of  me  I  could  not  keep  my  countenance. 
Namgay  Doola  grinned  persuasively,  and  began 

26 


NAMGAY  DOOLA 


to  tell  me  about  a  big  brown  bear  in  a  poppy-field 
by  the  river.  Would  I  care  to  shoot  it?  I  spoke 
austerely  on  the  sin  of  conspiracy,  and  the  cer- 
tainty of  punishment.  Namgay  Doola's  face 
clouded  for  a  moment.  Shortly  afterwards  he 
withdrew  from  my  tent,  and  I  heard  him  singing 
to  himself  softly  among  the  pines.  The  words 
were  unintelligible  to  me,  but  the  tune,  like  his 
liquid  insinuating  speech,  seemed  the  ghost'  of 
something  strangely  familiar. 

**  Dir  hane  mard-i-yemen  dir 
To  weeree  ala  gee,'* 

sang  Namgay  Doola  again  and  again,  and  I  racked 
my  brain  for  that  lost  tune.  It  was  not  till  after 
dinner  that  I  discovered  some,  one  had  cut  a 
square  foot  of  velvet  from  the  centre  of  my  best 
camera-cloth.  This  made  me  so  angry  that  I 
wandered  down  the  valley  in  the  hope  of  meeting 
the  big  brown  bear.  I  could  hear  him  grunting 
like  a  discontented  pig  in  the  poppy-field,  and  I 
waited  shoulder  deep  in  the  dew-dripping  Indian 
corn  to  catch  him  after  his  meal.  The  moon  was 
at  full  and  drew  out  the  rich  scent  of  the  tasselled 
crop.  Then  I  heard  the  anguished  bellow  of  a 
Himalayan  cow,  one  of  the  little  black  crummies 
no  bigger  than  Newfoundland  dogs.  Two  sha- 
dows that  looked  like  a  bear  and  her  cub  hurried 
past  me.    I  was  in  act  to  fire  when  I  saw  that 

27 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


they  had  each  a  brilliant  red  head.  The  lesser 
animal  was  trailing  some  rope  behind  it  that  left 
a  dark  track  on  the  path.  They  passed  within 
six  feet  of  me,  and  the  shadow  of  the  moonlight 
lay  velvet-black  on  their  faces.  Velvet-black  was 
exactly  the  word,  for  by  all  the  powers  of  moon- 
light they  were  masked  in  the  velvet  of  my  cam- 
era-cloth !  I  marvelled  and  went  to  bed. 

Next  morning  the  Kingdom  was  in  uproar. 
Namgay  Doola,  men  said,  had  gone  forth  in  the 
night  and  with  a  sharp  knife  had  cut  off  the  tail 
of  a  cow  belonging  to  the  rabbit-faced  villager 
who  had  betrayed  him.  It  was  sacrilege  unspeak- 
able against  the  Holy  Cow.  The  State  desired 
his  blood,  but  he  had  retreated  into  his  hut,  bar- 
ricaded the  doors  and  windows  with  big  stones, 
and  defied  the  world. 

The  King  and  I  and  the  populace  approached 
the  hut  cautiously.  There  was  no  hope  of  cap- 
turing the  man  without  loss  of  life,  for  from  a  hole 
in  the  wall  projected  the  muzzle  of  an  extremely 
well-cared-for  gun — the  only  gun  in  the  State  that 
could  shoot.  Namgay  Doola  had  narrowly  missed 
a  villager  just  before  we  came  up.  The  Standing 
Army  stood.  It  could  do  no  more,  for  when  it 
advanced  pieces  of  sharp  shale  flew  from  the 
windows.  To  these  were  added  from  time  to 
time  showers  of  scalding  water.  We  saw  red 
heads  bobbing  up  and  down  in  the  hut.  The 

28 


NAMGAY  DOOLA 


family  of  Namgay  Doola  were  aiding  their  sire, 
and  blood-curdling  yells  of  defiance  were  the  only 
answers  to  our  prayers. 

"Never,"  said  the  King,  puffing,  "has  such  a 
thing  befallen  my  State.  Next  year  I  will  cer- 
tainly buy  a  little  cannon."  He  looked  at  me 
imploringly. 

"  Is  there  any  priest  in  the  Kingdom  to  whom 
he  will  listen  ?  "  said  I,  for  a  light  was  beginning 
to  break  upon  me. 

"He  worships  his  own  God,"  said  the  Prime 
Minister.    "  We  can  starve  him  out." 

"Let  the  white  man  approach,"  said  Namgay 
Doola  from  within.  "  All  others  I  will  kill.  Send 
me  the  white  man." 

The  door  was  thrown  open  and  I  entered  the 
smoky  interior  of  a  Thibetan  hut  crammed  with 
children.  And  every  child  had  flaming  red  hair. 
A  raw  cow's  tail  lay  on  the  floor,  and  by  its  side 
two  pieces  of  black  velvet  —  my  black  velvet  — 
rudely  hacked  into  the  semblance  of  masks. 

"And  what  is  this  shame,  Namgay  Doola?  "said  I. 

He  grinned  more  winningly  than  ever.  "  There 
is  no  shame,"  said  he.  "  I  did  but  cut  off  the  tail 
of  that  man's  cow.  He  betrayed  me.  I  was 
minded  to  shoot  him.  Sahib.  But  not  to  death. 
Indeed  not  to  death.    Only  in  the  legs." 

"  And  why  at  all,  since  it  is  the  custom  to  pay 
revenue  to  the  King  ?    Why  at  all  ?  " 

29 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"  By  the  God  of  my  father  I  cannot  tell,"  said 
Namgay  Doola. 

"  And  who  was  thy  father  ?  " 

"  The  same  that  had  this  gun."  He  showed 
me  his  weapon  —  a  Tower  musket  bearing  date 
1832  and  the  stamp  of  the  Honourable  East  India 
Company. 

"  And  thy  father's  name  ?  '*  said  I. 

"  Timlay  Doola,"  said  he.  "  At  the  first,  I  be- 
ing then  a  little  child,  it  is  in  my  mind  that  he 
wore  a  red  coat." 

"  Of  that  I  have  no  doubt.  But  repeat  the 
name  of  thy  father  thrice  or  four  times." 

He  obeyed,  and  I  understood  whence  the 
puzzling  accent  in  his  speech  came.  "  Thimla 
Dhula,"  said  he  excitedly.  "To  this  hour  I  wor- 
ship his  God." 

"  May  I  see  that  God  ?  " 

"  In  a  little  while  —  at  twiHght  time." 

"Rememberest  thou  aught  of  thy  father's 
speech  ?  " 

"  It  is  long  ago.  But  there  is  one  word  which 
he  said  often.  Thus,  '  Shun'  Then  I  and  my 
brethren  stood  upon  our  feet,  our  hands  to  our 
sides.  Thus." 

"  Even  so.    And  what  was  thy  mother  ?  " 

"A  woman  of  the  hills.  We  be  Lepchas  of 
Darjeeling,  but  me  they  call  an  outlander  because 
my  hair  is  as  thou  seest." 

30 


NAMGAY  DOOLA 


The  Thibetan  woman,  his  wife,  touched  him  on 
the  arm  gently.  The  long  parley  outside  the  fort 
had  lasted  far  into  the  day.  It  was  now  close 
upon  twilight — the  hour  of  the  Angelus.  Very 
solemnly,  the  red-headed  brats  rose  from  the  floor 
and  formed  a  semicircle.  Namgay  Doola  laid  his 
gun  against  the  wall,  lighted  a  little  oil  lamp,  and 
set  it  before  a  recess  in  the  wall.  Pulling  aside  a 
curtain  of  dirty  cloth,  he  revealed  a  worn  brass 
crucifix  leaning  against  the  helmet-badge  of  a 
long-forgotten  East  India  regiment.  "Thus  did 
my  father,"  he  said,  crossing  himself  clumsily. 
The  wife  and  children  followed  suit.  Then  all 
together  they  struck  up  the  wailing  chant  that  I 
heard  on  the  hillside  — 

Dir  hane  mard-i-yemen  dir 
To  weeree  ala  gee. 

I  was  puzzled  no  longer.  Again  and  again  they 
crooned,  as  if  their  hearts  would  break,  their  ver- 
sion of  the  chorus  of  the  "  Wearing  of  the  Green" — 

They're  hanging  men  and  women  too. 
For  the  wearing  of  the  green. 

A  diabolical  inspiration  came  to  me.  One  of  the 
brats,  a  boy  about  eight  years  old,  was  watching 
me  as  he  sang.  I  pulled  out  a  rupee,  held  the 
coin  between  finger  and  thumb,  and  looked — only 

31 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


looked  —  at  the  gun  against  the  wall.  A  grin  of 
brilliant  and  perfect  comprehension  overspread  the 
face  of  the  child.  Never  for  an  instant  stopping 
the  song,  he  held  out  his  hand  for  the  money,  and 
then  slid  the  gun  to  my  hand.  I  might  have  shot 
Namgay  Doola  as  he  chanted.  But  I  was  satisfied. 
The  blood-instinct  of  the  race  held  true.  Namgay 
Doola  drew  the  curtain  across  the  recess.  Angelus 
was  over. 

"  Thus  my  father  sang.  There  is  much  more, 
but  I  have  forgotten,  and  I  do  not  know  the  pur- 
port of  these  words,  but  it  may  be  that  the  God 
will  understand.  I  am  not  of  this  people,  and  I 
will  not  pay  revenue." 

"And  why?" 

Again  that  soul-compelling  grin.    "What  oc- 
cupation would  be  to  me  between  crop  and  crop 
It  is  better  than  scaring  bears.    But  these  people 
do  not  understand."  He  picked  the  masks  from  the 
floor,  and  looked  in  my  face  as  simply  as  a  child. 

"  By  what  road  didst  thou  attain  knowledge  to 
make  these  devilries "  I  said,  pointing. 

"  I  cannot  tell.  I  am  but  a  Lepcha  of  Darjee- 
ling,  and  yet  the  stuff  " 

"  Which  thou  hast  stolen." 

"Nay,  surely.  Did  I  steal?  I  desired  it  so. 
The  stuff — the  stuff — what  else  should  I  have 
done  with  the  stuff?  "  He  twisted  the  velvet  be- 
tween his  fingers. 

32 


NAMGAY  DOOLA 


"But  the  sin  of  maiming  the  cow  —  consider 
that." 

"  That  is  true ;  but  oh,  Sahib,  that  man  betrayed 
me,  and  I  had  no  thought  — but  the  heifer's  tail 
waved  in  the  moonlight  and  I  had  my  knife. 
What  else  should  I  have  done  ?  The  tail  came 
off  ere  I  was  aware.  Sahib,  thou  knowest  more 
than  I." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  I.  "  Stay  within  the  door. 
I  go  to  speak  to  the  King." 

The  population  of  the  State  were  ranged  on  the 
hillsides.    I  went  forth  and  spoke  to  the  King. 

"  O  King,"  said  I.  "  Touching  this  man  there 
be  two  courses  open  to  thy  wisdom.  Thou  canst 
either  hang  him  from  a  tree,  he  and  his  brood,  till 
there  remains  no  hair  that  is  red  within  the  land." 

"  Nay,"  said  the  King.  "  Why  should  I  hurt 
the  little  children  ^  " 

They  had  poured  out  of  the  hut  door  and  were 
making  plump  obeisance  to  everybody.  Namgay 
Doola  waited  with  his  gun  across  his  arm. 

"  Or  thou  canst,  discarding  the  impiety  of  the 
cow-maiming,  raise  him  to  honour  in  thy  Army. 
He  comes  of  a  race  that  will  not  pay  revenue.  A 
red  flame  is  in  his  blood  which  comes  out  at  the 
top  of  his  head  in  that  glowing  hair.  Make  him 
chief  of  the  Army.  Give  him  honour  as  may  be- 
fall, and  full  allowance  of  work,  but  look  to  it,  O 
King,  that  neither  he  nor  his  hold  a  foot  of  earth 

33 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


from  thee  henceforward.  Feed  him  with  words 
and  favour,  and  also  liquor  from  certain  bottles 
that  thou  knowest  of,  and  he  will  be  a  bulwark  of 
defence.  But  deny  him  even  a  tuft  of  grass  for 
his  own.  This  is  the  nature  that  God  has  given 
him.    Moreover,  he  has  brethren  " 

The  State  groaned  unanimously. 

"  But  if  his  brethren  come,  they  will  surely  fight 
with  each  other  till  they  die;  or  else  the  one  will 
always  give  information  concerning  the  other. 
Shall  he  be  of  thy  Army,  O  King?  Choose." 

The  King  bowed  his  head,  and  I  said,  "  Come 
forth,  Namgay  Doola,  and  command  the  King's 
Army.  Thy  name  shall  no  more  be  Namgay  in 
the  mouths  of  men,  but  Patsay  Doola,  for  as  thou 
hast  said,  I  know." 

Then  Namgay  Doola,  new  christened  Patsay 
Doola,  son  of  Timlay  Doola,  which  is  Tim  Doolan 
gone  very  wrong  indeed,  clasped  the  King's  feet, 
cuffed  the  Standing  Army,  and  hurried  in  an  agony 
of  contrition  from  temple  to  temple,  making  offer- 
ings for  the  sin  of  cattle-maiming. 

And  the  King  was  so  pleased  with  my  perspi- 
cacity that  he  offered  to  sell  me  a  village  for  twenty 
pounds  sterling.  But  I  buy  no  villages  in  the 
Himalayas  so  long  as  one  red  head  flares  between 
the  tail  of  the  heaven-climbing  glacier  and  the 
dark  birch-forest. 

I  know  that  breed. 

34 


"THE  CITY  OF  DREADFUL  NIGHT 


The  dense  wet  heat  that  hung  over  the  face  of 
land,  like  a  blanket,  prevented  all  hope  of  sleep  in 
the  first  instance.  The  cicalas  helped  the  heat; 
and  the  yelling  jackals  the  cicalas.  It  was  impos- 
sible to  sit  still  in  the  dark,  empty,  echoing  house 
and  watch  the  punkah  beat  the  dead  air.  So,  at 
ten  o'clock  of  the  night,  I  set  my  walking-stick  on 
end  in  the  middle  of  the  garden,  and  waited  to  see 
how  it  would  fall.  It  pointed  directly  down  the 
moonlit  road  that  leads  to  the  City  of  Dreadful 
Night.  The  sound  of  its  fall  disturbed  a  hare. 
She  limped  from  her  form  and  ran  across  to  a  dis- 
used Mahomedan  burial-ground,  where  the  jaw- 
less  skulls  and  rough-butted  shank-bones,  heart- 
lessly exposed  by  the  July  rains,  glimmered  like 
mother  o'  pearl  on  the  rain-channelled  soil.  The 
heated  air  and  the  heavy  earth  had  driven  the  very 
dead  upward  for  coolness'  sake.  The  hare  limped 
on;  snuffed  curiously  at  a  fragment  of  a  smoke- 
stained  lamp-shard,  and  died  out  in  the  shadow  of 
a  clump  of  tamarisk  trees. 

The  mat-weaver's  hut  under  the  lee  of  the 


Copyright,  1891,  by  Macmillan  &  Co. 

35 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


Hindu  temple  was  full  of  sleeping  men  who  lay 
like  sheeted  corpses.  Overhead  blazed  the  un- 
winking eye  of  the  Moon.  Darkness  gives  at  least 
a  false  impression  of  coolness.  It  was  hard  not 
to  believe  that  the  flood  of  light  from  above  was 
warm.  Not  so  hot  as  the  Sun,  but  still  sickly 
warm,  and  heating  the  heavy  air  beyond  what  was 
our  due.  Straight  as  a  bar  of  polished  steel  ran 
the  road  to  the  City  of  Dreadful  Night ;  and  on 
either  side  of  the  road  lay  corpses  disposed  on  beds 
in  fantastic  attitudes  —  one  hundred  and  seventy 
bodies  of  men.  Some  shrouded  all  in  white  with 
bound-up  mouths ;  some  naked  and  black  as  ebony 
in  the  strong  light;  and  one  —  that  lay  face  up- 
wards with  dropped  jaw,  far  away  from  the  others 
—  silvery  white  and  ashen  gray. 

"A  leper  asleep;  and  the  remainder  wearied 
coolies,  servants,  small  shopkeepers,  and  drivers 
from  the  hack-stand  hard  by.  The  scene —  a  main 
approach  to  Lahore  city,  and  the  night  a  warm  one 
in  August."  This  was  all  that  there  was  to  be 
seen ;  but  by  no  means  all  that  one  could  see. 
The  witchery  of  the  moonlight  was  everywhere ; 
and  the  world  was  horribly  changed.  The  long 
line  of  the  naked  dead,  flanked  by  the  rigid  silver 
statue,  was  not  pleasant  to  look  upon.  It  was 
made  up  of  men  alone.  Were  the  womenkind, 
then,  forced  to  sleep  in  the  shelter  of  the  stifling 
mud-huts  as  best  they  might "?    The  fretful  v/ail 

36 


"THE  CITY  OF  DREADFUL  NIGHT 


of  a  child  from  a  low  mud-roof  answered  the  ques- 
tion. Where  the  children  are  the  mothers  must 
be  also  to  look  after  them.  They  need  care  on 
these  sweltering  nights.  A  black  little  bullet- 
head  peeped  over  the  coping,  and  a  thin  —  a  pain- 
fully thin  —  brown  leg  was  slid  over  on  to  the 
gutter  pipe.  There  was  a  sharp  cHnk  of  glass 
bracelets;  a  woman's  arm  showed  for  an  instant 
above  the  parapet,  twined  itself  round  the  lean 
little  neck,  and  the  child  was  dragged  back,  pro- 
testing, to  the  shelter  of  the  bedstead.  His  thin, 
high-pitched  shriek  died  out  in  the  thick  air  almost 
as  soon  as  it  was  raised ;  for  even  the  children  of 
the  soil  found  it  too  hot  to  weep. 

More  corpses ;  more  stretches  of  moonlit,  white 
road;  a  string  of  sleeping  camels  at  rest  by  the 
wayside ;  a  vision  of  scudding  jackals ;  ekka- 
ponies  asleep  —  the  harness  still  on  their  backs, 
and  the  brass-studded  country  carts,  winking  in 
the  moonlight — and  again  more  corpses.  Where- 
ever  a  grain  cart  atilt,  a  tree  trunk,  a  sawn  log,  a 
couple  of  bamboos  and  a  few  handfuls  of  thatch 
cast  a  shadow,  the  ground  is  covered  with  them. 
They  lie  —  some  face  downwards,  arms  folded,  in 
the  dust ;  some  with  clasped  hands  flung  up  above 
their  heads ;  some  curled  up  dog-wise;  some  thrown 
like  limp  gunny-bags  over  the  side  of  the  grain- 
carts  ;  and  some  bowed  with  their  brows  on  their 
knees  in  the  full  glare  of  the  Moon.    It  would  be 

37 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


a  comfort  if  they  were  only  given  to  snoring;  but 
they  are  not,  and  the  likeness  to  corpses  is  un- 
broken in  all  respects  save  one.  The  lean  dogs 
snufF  at  them  and  turn  away.  Here  and  there  a 
tiny  child  lies  on  his  father's  bedstead,  and  a  pro- 
tecting arm  is  thrown  round  it  in  every  instance. 
But,  for  the  most  part,  the  children  sleep  with  their 
mothers  on  the  housetops.  Yellow-skinned,  white- 
toothed  pariahs  are  not  to  be  trusted  within  reach 
of  brown  bodies. 

A  stifling  hot  blast  from  the  mouth  of  the  Delhi 
Gate  nearly  ends  my  resolution  of  entering  the 
City  of  Dreadful  Night  at  this  hour.  It  is  a  com- 
pound of  all  evil  savours,  animal  and  vegetable, 
that  a  walled  city  can  brew  in  a  day  and  a  night. 
The  temperature  within  the  motionless  groves  of 
plantain  and  orange-trees  outside  the  city  walls 
seems  chilly  by  comparison.  Heaven  help  all  sick 
persons  and  young  children  within  the  city  to- 
night !  The  high  house-walls  are  still  radiating 
heat  savagely,  and  from  obscure  side  gullies  fetid 
breezes  eddy  that  ought  to  poison  a  buffalo.  But 
the  buffaloes  do  not  heed.  A  drove  of  them  are 
parading  the  vacant  main  street;  stopping  now 
and  then  to  lay  their  ponderous  muzzles  against 
the  closed  shutters  of  a  grain-dealer's  shop,  and  to 
blow  thereon  like  grampuses. 

Then  silence  follows — the  silence  that  is  full  of 
the  night  noises  of  a  great  city.    A  stringed  instru- 

38 


"THE  CITY  OF  DREADFUL  NIGHT" 


ment  of  some  kind  is  just,  and  only  just,  audible. 
High  overhead  some  one  throws  open  a  window, 
and  the  rattle  of  the  wood-work  echoes  down  the 
empty  street.  On  one  of  the  roofs  a  hookah  is  in 
full  blast;  and  the  men  are  talking  softly  as  the 
pipe  gutters.  A  little  farther  on,  the  noise  of  con- 
versation is  more  distinct.  A  slit  of  light  shows 
itself  between  the  sliding  shutters  of  a  shop.  In- 
side, a  stubble-bearded,  weary-eyed  trader  is  balanc- 
ing his  account-books  among  the  bales  of  cotton 
prints  that  surround  him.  Three  sheeted  figures 
bear  him  company,  and  throw  in  a  remark  from 
time  to  time.  First  he  makes  an  entry,  then  a  re- 
mark ;  then  passes  the  back  of  his  hand  across  his 
streaming  forehead.  The  heat  in  the  built-in 
street  is  fearful.  Inside  the  shops  it  must  be  al- 
most unendurable.  But  the  work  goes  on  steadily; 
entry,  guttural  growl,  and  uplifted  hand-stroke  suc- 
ceeding each  other  with  the  precision  of  clock- 
work. 

A  policeman — turbanless  and  fast  asleep  —  lies 
across  the  road  on  the  way  to  the  Mosque  of 
Wazir  Khan.  A  bar  of  moonlight  falls  across 
the  forehead  and  eyes  of  the  sleeper,  but  he  never 
stirs.  It  is  close  upon  midnight,  and  the  heat 
seems  to  be  increasing.  The  open  square  in  front 
of  the  Mosque  is  crowded  with  corpses;  and  a 
man  must  pick  his  way  carefully  for  fear  of  tread- 
ing on  them.  The  moonlight  stripes  the  Mosque's 

39 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


high  front  of  coloured  enamel  work  in  broad  diag- 
onal bands ;  and  each  separate  dreaming  pigeon  in 
the  niches  and  corners  of  the  masonry  throws  a 
squab  little  shadow.  Sheeted  ghosts  rise  up 
wearily  from  their  pallets,  and  flit  into  the  dark 
depths  of  the  building.  Is  it  possible  to  climb  to 
the  top  of  the  great  Minars,  and  thence  to  look 
down  on  the  city  ?  At  all  events,  the  attempt  is 
worth  making,  and  the  chances  are  that  the  door  of 
the  staircase  will  be  unlocked.  Unlocked  it  is ;  but 
a  deeply-sleeping  janitor  lies  across  the  threshold, 
face  turned  to  the  Moon.  A  rat  dashes  out  of  his 
turban  at  the  sound  of  approaching  footsteps. 
The  man  grunts,  opens  his  eyes  for  a  minute,  turns 
round  and  goes  to  sleep  again.  All  the  heat  of  a 
decade  of  fierce  Indian  summers  is  stored  in  the 
pitch-black,  polished  walls  of  the  corkscrew  stair- 
case. Half-way  up,  there  is  something  alive,  warm, 
and  feathery;  and  it  snores.  Driven  from  step  to 
step  as  it  catches  the  sound  of  my  advance,  it  flut- 
ters to  the  top  and  reveals  itself  as  a  yellow-eyed, 
angry  kite.  Dozens  of  kites  are  asleep  on  this  and 
the  other  Minars,  and  on  the  domes  below.  There 
is  the  shadow  of  a  cool,  or  at  least  a  less  sultry 
breeze  at  this  height ;  and,  refreshed  thereby,  turn 
to  look  on  the  City  of  Dreadful  Night. 

Dore  might  have  drawn  it!  Zola  could  de- 
scribe it — this  spectacle  of  sleeping  thousands  in 
the  moonlight  and  in  the  shadow  of  the  Moon. 

40 


"THE  CITY  OF  DREADFUL  NIGHT 


The  roof-tops  are  crammed  with  men,  women,  and 
children;  and  the  air  is  full  of  undistinguishable 
noises.  They  are  restless  in  the  City  of  Dreadful 
Night;  and  small  wonder.  The  marvel  is  that 
they  can  even  breathe.  If  you  gaze  intently  at 
the  multitude,  you  can  see  that  they  are  almost  as 
uneasy  as  a  daylight  crowd ;  but  the  tumult  is  sub- 
dued. Everywhere,  in  the  strong  light,  you  can 
watch  the  sleepers  turning  to  and  fro;  shifting 
their  beds  and  again  resettling  them.  In  the  pit- 
like courtyards  of  the  houses  there  is  the  same 
movement. 

The  pitiless  Moon  shows  it  all.  Shows,  too, 
the  plains  outside  the  city,  and  here  and  there  a 
hand's-breadth  of  the  Ravee  without  the  walls. 
Shows  lastly  a  splash  of  glittering  silver  on  a 
house-top  almost  directly  below  the  mosque  Mi- 
nar.  Some  poor  soul  has  risen  to  throw  a  jar  of 
water  over  his  fevered  body;  the  tinkle  of  the 
falling  water  strikes  faintly  on  the  ear.  Two  or 
three  other  men,  in  far-off  corners  of  the  City  of 
Dreadful  Night,  follow  his  example,  and  the  water 
flashes  like  heliographic  signals.  A  small  cloud 
passes  over  the  face  of  the  Moon,  and  the  city  and 
its  inhabitants  —  clear  drawn  in  black  and  white 
before  —  fade  into  masses  of  black  and  deeper 
black.  Still  the  unrestful  noise  continues,  the 
sigh  of  a  great  city  overwhelmed  with  the  heat, 
and  of  a  people  seeking  in  vain  for  rest.    It  is 

41 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


only  the  lower-class  women  who  sleep  on  the 
housetops.  What  must  the  torment  be  in  the 
latticed  zenanas,  where  a  few  lamps  are  still 
twinkling?  There  are  footfalls  in  the  court  be- 
low. It  is  the  Muezzin  —  faithful  minister ;  but 
he  ought  to  have  been  here  an  hour  ago  to  tell 
the  Faithful  that  prayer  is  better  than  sleep  —  the 
sleep  that  will  not  come  to  the  city. 

The  Muezzin  fumbles  for  a  moment  with  the 
door  of  one  of  the  Minars,  disappears  awhile,  and 
a  bull-like  roar  —  a  magnificent  bass  thunder  — 
tells  that  he  has  reached  the  top  of  the  Minar. 
They  must  hear  the  cry  to  the  banks  of  the 
shrunken  Ravee  itself !  Even  across  the  court- 
yard it  is  almost  overpowering.  The  cloud  drifts 
by  and  shows  him  outlined  in  black  against  the 
sky,  hands  laid  upon  his  ears,  and  broad  chest  heav- 
ing with  the  play  of  his  lungs  — "  Allah  ho  Ak- 
bar " ;  then  a  pause  while  another  Muezzin  some- 
where in  the  direction  of  the  Golden  Temple 
takes  up  the  call  —  "Allah  ho  Akbar."  Again 
and  again ;  four  times  in  all ;  and  from  the  bed- 
steads a  dozen  men  have  risen  up  already. — "  I 
bear  witness  that  there  is  no  God  but  God." 
What  a  splendid  cry  it  is,  the  proclamation  of  the 
creed  that  brings  men  out  of  their  beds  by  scores 
at  midnight!  Once  again  he  thunders  through 
the  same  phrase,  shaking  with  the  vehemence  of 
his  own  voice;  and  then,  far  and  near,  the  night 

42 


"THE  CITY  OF  DREADFUL  NIGHT 


air  rings  with  "  Mahomed  is  the  Prophet  of  God." 
It  is  as  though  he  were  flinging  his  defiance  to  the 
far-off  horizon,  where  the  summer  lightning  plays 
and  leaps  like  a  bared  sword.  Every  Muezzin  in 
the  city  is  in  full  cry,  and  some  men  on  the  roof- 
tops are  beginning  to  kneel.  A  long  pause  pre- 
cedes the  last  cry,  "  La  ilaha  Illallah,"  and  the  si- 
lence closes  up  on  it,  as  the  ram  on  the  head  of 
a  cotton-bale. 

The  Muezzin  stumbles  down  the  dark  stairway 
grumbling  in  his  beard.  He  passes  the  arch  of 
the  entrance  and  disappears.  Then  the  stifling 
silence  settles  down  over  the  City  of  Dreadful 
Night.  The  kites  on  the  Minar  sleep  again,  snor- 
ing more  loudly,  the  hot  breeze  comes  up  in  puffs 
and  lazy  eddies,  and  the  Moon  slides  down  to- 
wards the  horizon.  Seated  w^ith  both  elbows  on  the 
parapet  of  the  tower,  one  can  watch  and  wonder 
over  that  heat-tortured  hive  till  the  dawn.  "  How 
do  they  live  down  there  ?  What  do  they  think 
of?  When  will  they  awake  ?  "  More  tinkling 
of  sluiced  water-pots ;  faint  jarring  of  wooden  bed- 
steads moved  into  or  out  of  the  shadows ;  uncouth 
music  of  stringed  instruments  softened  by  distance 
into  a  plaintive  wail,  and  one  low  grumble  of  far- 
off  thunder.  In  the  courtyard  of  the  mosque  the 
janitor,  who  lay  across  the  threshold  of  the  Minar 
when  I  came  up,  starts  wildly  in  his  sleep,  throws 
his  hands  above  his  head,  mutters  something,  and 

43 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


falls  back  again.  Lulled  by  the  snoring  of  the 
kites  —  they  snore  like  over-gorged  humans  —  I 
drop  off  into  an  uneasy  doze,  conscious  that  three 
o'clock  has  struck,  and  that  there  is  a  slight  —  a 
very  slight  —  coolness  in  the  atmosphere.  The 
city  is  absolutely  quiet  now,  but  for  some  vagrant 
dog's  love-song.    Nothing  save  dead  heavy  sleep. 

Several  weeks  of  darkness  pass  after  this.  For 
the  Moon  has  gone  out.  The  very  dogs  are  still, 
and  I  watch  for  the  first  light  of  the  dawn  before 
making  my  way  homeward.  Again  the  noise  of 
shuffling  feet.  The  morning  call  is  about  to  begin, 
and  my  night  watch  is  over.  "  Allah  ho  Akbar ! 
Allah  ho  Akbar ! "  The  east  grows  gray,  and 
presently  saffron;  the  dawn  wind  comes  up  as 
though  the  Muezzin  had  summoned  it;  and,  as 
one  man,  the  City  of  Dreadful  Night  rises  from 
its  bed  and  turns  its  face  towards  the  dawning 
day.  With  return  of  life  comes  return  of  sound. 
First  a  low  whisper,  then  a  deep  bass  hum;  for 
it  must  be  remembered  that  the  entire  city  is 
on  the  housetops.  My  eyelids  weighed  down  with 
the  arrears  of  long  deferred  sleep,  I  escape  from 
the  Minar  through  the  courtyard  and  out  into  the 
square  beyond,  where  the  sleepers  have  risen, 
stowed  away  the  bedsteads,  and  are  discussing  the 
morning  hookah.  The  minute's  freshness  of  the 
air  has  gone,  and  it  is  as  hot  as  at  first. 

"  Will  the  Sahib,  out  of  his  kindness,  make 

44 


"THE  CITY  OF  DREADFUL  NIGHT 


room  ?  "  What  is  it  ?  Something  borne  on  men's 
shoulders  comes  by  in  the  half-light,  and  I  stand 
back.  A  woman's  corpse  going  down  to  the 
burning-ghat,  and  a  bystander  says,  "She  died  at 
midnight  from  the  heat."  So  the  city  was  of 
Death  as  well  as  Night,  after  all. 


45 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  DUNGARA 


See  the  pale  martyr  with  his  shirt  on  fire. — Printer* s  Error. 

They  tell  the  tale  even  now  among  the  groves 
of  the  Berbulda  Hill,  and  for  corroboration  point 
to  the  roofless  and  windowless  Mission-house. 
The  great  God  Dungara,  the  God  of  Things  as 
They  Are,  Most  Terrible,  One-eyed,  Bearing  the 
Red  Elephant  Tusk,  did  it  all;  and  he  who  re- 
fuses to  believe  in  Dungara  will  assuredly  be  smit- 
ten by  the  Madness  of  Yat  —  the  madness  that 
fell  upon  the  sons  and  the  daughters  of  the  Buria 
Kol  when  they  turned  aside  from  Dungara  and 
put  on  clothes.  So  says  Athon  Daze,  who  is 
High  Priest  of  the  shrine  and  Warden  of  the 
Red  Elephant  Tusk.  But  if  you  ask  the  Assis- 
tant Collector  and  Agent  in  Charge  of  the  Buria 
Kol,  he  will  laugh — not  because  he  bears  any 
malice  against  missions,  but  because  he  himself 
saw  the  vengeance  of  Dungara  executed  upon  the 
spiritual  children  of  the  Reverend  Justus  Krenk, 
Pastor  of  the  Tubingen  Mission,  and  upon  Lotta, 
his  virtuous  wife. 

Yet  if  ever  a  man  merited  good  treatment  of 

46 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  DUNGARA 


the  Gods  it  was  the  Reverend  Justus,  one  time 
of  Heidelberg,  who,  on  the  faith  of  a  call,  went 
into  the  wilderness  and  took  the  blonde,  blue-eyed 
Lotta  with  him.  "  We  will  these  Heathen  now 
by  idolatrous  practices  so  darkened  better  make," 
said  Justus  in  the  early  days  of  his  career.  "Yes," 
he  added  with  conviction,  "they  shall  be  good 
and  shall  with  their  hands  to  work  learn.  For 
all  good  Christians  must  work."  And  upon  a 
stipend  more  modest  even  than  that  of  an  English 
lay-reader,  Justus  Krenk  kept  house  beyond  Ka- 
mala  and  the  gorge  of  Malair,  beyond  the  Ber- 
bulda  River  close  to  the  foot  of  the  blue  hill  of 
Panth  on  whose  summit  stands  the  Temple  of 
Dungara  —  in  the  heart  of  the  country  of  the 
Buria  Kol  —  the  naked,  good-tempered,  timid, 
shameless,  lazy  Buria  Kol. 

Do  you  know  what  life  at  a  Mission  outpost 
means '?  Try  to  imagine  a  loneliness  exceeding 
that  of  the  smallest  station  to  which  Government 
has  ever  sent  you  —  isolation  that  weighs  upon 
the  waking  eyelids  and  drives  you  by  force  head- 
long into  the  labours  of  the  day.  There  is  no  post, 
there  is  no  one  of  your  own  colour  to  speak  to, 
there  are  no  roads :  there  is,  indeed,  food  to  keep 
you  alive,  but  it  is  not  pleasant  to  eat ;  and  what- 
ever of  good  or  beauty  or  interest  there  is  in  your 
hfe,  must  come  from  yourself  and  the  grace  that 
may  be  planted  in  you. 

47 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


In  the  morning,  with  a  patter  of  soft  feet,  the 
converts,  the  doubtful,  and  the  open  scoffers,  troop 
up  to  the  verandah.  You  must  be  infinitely  kind 
and  patient,  and,  above  all,  clear-sighted,  for  you 
deal  with  the  simplicity  of  childhood,  the  experi- 
ence of  man,  and  the  subtlety  of  the  savage.  Your 
congregation  have  a  hundred  material  wants  to  be 
considered;  and  it  is  for  you,  as  you  believe  in 
your  personal  responsibility  to  your  Maker,  to  pick 
out  of  the  clamouring  crowd  any  grain  of  spiritu- 
ality that  may  lie  therein.  If  to  the  cure  of  souls 
you  add  that  of  bodies,  your  task  will  be  all  the 
more  difficult,  for  the  sick  and  the  maimed  will 
profess  any  and  every  creed  for  the  sake  of  healing, 
and  will  laugh  at  you  because  you  are  simple 
enough  to  believe  them. 

As  the  day  wears  and  the  impetus  of  the  morn- 
ing dies  away,  there  will  come  upon  you  an  over- 
whelming sense  of  the  uselessness  of  your  toil. 
This  must  be  striven  against,  and  the  only  spur  in 
your  side  will  be  the  belief  that  you  are  playing 
against  the  Devil  for  the  living  soul.  It  is  a  great, 
a  joyous  belief ;  but  he  who  can  hold  it  unwaver- 
ing for  four  and  twenty  consecutive  hours,  must 
be  blessed  with  an  abundantly  strong  physique  and 
equable  nerve. 

Ask  the  gray  heads  of  the  Bannockburn  Medi- 
cal Crusade  what  manner  of  life  their  preachers 
lead;  speak  to  the  Racine  Gospel  Agency,  those 

48 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  DUNGARA 


lean  Americans  whose  boast  is  that  they  go  where 
no  Englishman  dare  follow;  get  a  Pastor  of  the 
Tubingen  Mission  to  talk  of  his  experiences  —  if 
you  can.  You  will  be  referred  to  the  printed  re- 
ports, but  these  contain  no  mention  of  the  men 
who  have  lost  youth  and  health,  all  that  a  man 
may  lose  except  faith,  in  the  wilds ;  of  English 
maidens  who  have  gone  forth  and  died  in  the  fever- 
stricken  jungle  of  the  Panth  Hills,  knowing  from 
the  first  that  death  was  almost  a  certainty.  Few 
Pastors  will  tell  you  of  these  things  any  more  than 
they  will  speak  of  that  young  David  of  St.  Bees, 
who,  set  apart  for  the  Lord's  work,  broke  down  in 
the  utter  desolation,  and  returned  half  distraught 
to  the  Head  Mission,  crying :  "  There  is  no  God, 
but  I  have  walked  with  the  Devil ! " 

The  reports  are  silent  here,  because  heroism, 
failure,  doubt,  despair,  and  self-abnegation  on  the 
part  of  a  mere  cultured  white  man  are  things  of 
no  weight  as  compared  to  the  saving  of  one  half- 
human  soul  from  a  fantastic  faith  in  wood-spirits, 
goblins  of  the  rock,  and  river-fiends. 

And  Gallio,  the  Assistant  Collector  of  the 
country-side  "cared  for  none  of  these  things." 
He  had  been  long  in  the  district,  and  the  Buria 
Kol  loved  him  and  brought  him  offerings  of 
speared  fish,  orchids  from  the  dim  moist  heart  of 
the  forests,  and  as  much  game  as  he  could  eat. 
In  return,  he  gave  them  quinine,  and  with  Athon 

49 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


Daze,  the  High  Priest,  controlled  their  simple 
policies. 

"  When  you  have  been  some  years  in  the 
country,"  said  Gallio  at  the  Krenks'  table,  "  you 
grow  to  find  one  creed  as  good  as  another.  I'll 
give  you  all  the  assistance  in  my  power,  of  course, 
but  don't  hurt  my  Buria  Kol.  They  are  a  good 
people  and  they  trust  me." 

"  I  will  them  the  Word  of  the  Lord  teach," 
said  Justus,  his  round  face  beaming  with  enthusi- 
asm, "and  I  will  assuredly  to  their  prejudices  no 
wrong  hastily  w^ithout  thinking  make.  But,  O  my 
friend,  this  in  the  mind  impartiality-of-creed-judg- 
ment-be-looking  is  very  bad." 

"  Heigh-ho  I  "  said  Gallio,  "  I  have  their  bodies 
and  the  district  to  see  to,  but  you  can  try  what 
you  can  do  for  their  souls.  Only  don't  behave  as 
your  predecessor  did,  or  I'm  afraid  that  I  can't 
guarantee  your  life." 

"And  that?"  said  Lotta  sturdily,  handing  him 
a  cup  of  tea. 

"  He  went  up  to  the  Temple  of  Dungara  —  to 
be  sure,  he  was  new  to  the  country  —  and  began 
hammering  old  Dungara  over  the  head  with  an 
umbrella;  so  the  Buria  Kol  turned  out  and  ham- 
mered hi7n  rather  savagely.  I  was  in  the  district, 
and  he  sent  a  runner  to  me  with  a  note  saying: 
'  Persecuted  for  the  Lord's  sake.  Send  wing  of 
regiment.'    The  nearest  troops  were  about  two 

5° 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  DUNGARA 

hundred  miles  off,  but  I  guessed  what  he  had  been 
doing.  I  rode  to  Panth  and  talked  to  old  Athon 
Daze  Hke  a  father,  telling  him  that  a  man  of  his 
wisdom  ought  to  have  known  that  the  Sahib  had 
sunstroke  and  was  mad.  You  never  saw  a  people 
more  sorry  in  your  life.  Athon  Daze  apologised, 
sent  wood  and  milk  and  fowls  and  all  sorts  of 
things ;  and  I  gave  five  rupees  to  the  shrine,  and 
told  Macnamara  that  he  had  been  injudicious. 
He  said  that  I  had  bowed  down  in  the  House  of 
Rimmon  ;  but  if  he  had  only  just  gone  over  the 
brow  of  the  hill  and  insulted  Palin  Deo,  the  idol 
of  the  Suria  Kol,  he  would  have  been  impaled  on 
a  charred  bamboo  long  before  I  could  have  done 
anything,  and  then  I  should  have  had  to  have 
hanged  some  of  the  poor  brutes.  Be  gentle  with 
them,  Padri  —  but  I  don't  think  you'll  do  much." 

"Not  I,"  said  Justus,  "but  my  Master.  We 
will  with  the  little  children  begin.  Many  of  them 
will  be  sick  —  that  is  so.  After  the  children  the 
mothers ;  and  then  the  men.  But  I  would  greatly 
that  you  were  in  internal  sympathies  with  us  pre- 
fer." 

Gallio  departed  to  risk  his  life  in  mending  the 
rotten  bamboo  bridges  of  his  people,  in  killing  a 
too  persistent  tiger  here  or  there,  in  sleeping  out 
in  the  reeking  jungle,  or  in  tracking  the  Suria  Kol 
raiders  who  had  taken  a  few  heads  from  their 
brethren  of  the  Buria  clan.    He  was  a  knock- 

51 


li.  of  111.  Lib.;  Galesburg' 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


kneed,  shambling  young  man,  naturally  devoid  of 
creed  or  reverence,  with  a  longing  for  absolute 
power  which  his  undesirable  district  gratified. 

"  No  one  wants  my  post,"  he  used  to  say  grimly, 
"and  my  Collector  only  pokes  his  nose  in  when 
he's  quite  certain  that  there  is  no  fever.  I'm  mon- 
arch of  all  I  survey,  and  Athon  Daze  is  my  viceroy." 

Because  Gallio  prided  himself  on  his  supreme 
disregard  of  human  life  —  though  he  never  ex- 
tended the  theory  beyond  his  own  —  he  naturally 
rode  forty  miles  to  the  Mission  with  a  tiny  brown 
girl-baby  on  his  saddle-bow. 

"  Here  is  something  for  you,  Padri,"  said  he. 
"  The  Kols  leave  their  surplus  children  to  die. 
'Don't  see  why  they  shouldn't,  but  you  may  rear 
this  one.  I  picked  it  up  beyond  the  Berbulda 
fork.  I've  a  notion  that  the  mother  has  been  fol- 
lowing me  through  the  woods  ever  since." 

"  It  is  the  first  of  the  fold,"  said  Justus,  and  Lotta 
caught  up  the  screaming  morsel  to  her  bosom  and 
hushed  it  craftily;  while,  as  a  wolf  hangs  in  the 
field,  Matui,  who  had  borne  it  and  in  accordance 
with  the  law  of  her  tribe  had  exposed  it  to  die, 
panted  weary  and  footsore  in  the  bamboo-brake, 
watching  the  house  with  hungry  mother-eyes. 
What  would  the  omnipotent  Assistant  Collector 
do?  Would  the  little  man  in  the  black  coat  eat 
her  daughter  alive,  as  Athon  Daze  said  was  the 
custom  of  all  men  in  black  coats  ? 

52 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  DUNGARA 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


kneed,  shambling  young  man,  naturally  devoid  of 
creed  or  reverence,  with  a  longing  for  absolute 
power  which  his  undesirable  district  gratified. 

"  No  one  wants  my  post,"  he  used  to  say  grimly, 
"  and  my  Collector  only  pokes  his  nose  in  when 
he's  quite  certain  that  there  is  no  fever.  I'm  mon- 
arch of  all  I  survey,  and  Athon  Daze  is  my  viceroy." 

Because  Gallio  prided  himself  on  his  supreme 
disregard  of  human  life — ^  though  he  never  ex- 
tended the  thf  ory  bey(>n'^  own  —  he  naturally 
rode  forty  mi  Irs  to  the  with  a  tiny  brown 

girl-baby  on  his  saddle-bou 

"  Here  is  something  for  you.,  t^dn,  said  he. 
"  The  Kols  leave  their  surplus  children  to  die. 
'Don't  see  why  they  shouldn't,  but  you  may  rear 
this  one.  I  picked  it  up  beyond  the  Berbulda 
fork.  I've  a  notion  that  the  mother  has  been  fol- 
lowing me  through  the  woods  ever  since." 

"  It  is  the  first  of  the  fold,"  said  Justus,  and  Lotta 
caught  up  the  screaming  morsel  to  her  bosom  and 
hushed  it  craftily;  while,  as  a  wolf  hangs  in  the 
field,  Matui,  who  had  borne  it  and  in  accordance 
with  the  law  of  her  tribe  had  exposed  it  to  die, 
panted  weary  and  footsore  in  the  bamboo-brake, 
watching  the  house  with  hungry  mother-eyes. 
What  would  the  omnipotent  Assistant  Collector 
do?  Would  the  little  man  in  the  black  coat^eat 
her  daughter  alive,  as  Athon  Daze  said  was  the 
custom  of  all  men  in  black  coats 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  DUNGARA 

Matui  waited  among  the  bamboos  through  the 
long  night ;  and,  in  the  morning,  there  came  forth 
a  fair  white  woman,  the  like  of  whom  Matui  had 
never  seen,  and  in  her  arms  was  Matui's  daughter 
clad  in  spotless  raiment.  Lotta  knew  little  of  the 
tongue  of  the  Buria  Kol,  but  when  mother  calls 
to  mother,  speech  is  easy  to  follow.  By  the  hands 
stretched  timidly  to  the  hem  of  her  gown,  by  the 
passionate  gutturals  and  the  longing  eyes,  Lotta 
understood  with  whom  she  had  to  deal.  So  Matui 
took  her  child  again  —  would  be  a  servant,  even  a 
slave,  to  this  wonderful  white  woman,  for  her  own 
tribe  would  recognise  her  no  more.  And  Lotta 
wept  with  her  exhaustively,  after  the  German 
fashion,  which  includes  much  blowing  of  the  nose. 

"  First  the  child,  then  the  mother,  and  last  the 
man,  and  to  the  Glory  of  God  all,"  said  Justus  the 
Hopeful.  And  the  man  came,  with  a  bow  and 
arrows,  very  angry  indeed,  for  there  was  no  one  to 
cook  for  him. 

But  the  tale  of  the  Mission  is  a  long  one,  and  I 
have  no  space  to  show  how  Justus,  forgetful  of  his 
injudicious  predecessor,  grievously  smote  Moto, 
the  husband  of  Matui,  for  his  brutality ;  how  Moto 
was  startled,  but  being  released  from  the  fear  of  in- 
stant death,  took  heart  and  became  the  faithful  ally 
and  first  convert  of  Justus;  how  the  little  gathering 
grew,  to  the  huge  disgust  of  Athon  Daze ;  how  the 
Priest  of  the  God  of  Things  as  They  Are  argued 

53 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


subtilely  with  the  Priest  of  the  God  of  Things  as 
They  Should  Be,  and  was  worsted ;  how  the  dues 
of  the  Temple  of  Dungara  fell  away  in  fowls  and 
fish  and  honeycomb,  how  Lotta  lightened  the 
Curse  of  Eve  among  the  women,  and  how  Justus 
did  his  best  to  introduce  the  Curse  of  Adam;  how 
the  Buria  Kol  rebelled  at  this,  saying  that  their 
God  was  an  idle  God,  and  how  Justus  partially 
overcame  their  scruples  against  work,  and  taught 
them  that  the  black  earth  was  rich  in  other  produce 
than  pig-nuts  only. 

All  these  things  belong  to  the  history  of  many 
months,  and  throughout  those  months  the  white- 
haired  Athon  Daze  meditated  revenge  for  the  tribal 
neglect  of  Dungara.  With  savage  cunning  he 
feigned  friendship  towards  Justus,  even  hinting  at 
his  own  conversion ;  but  to  the  congregation  of 
Dungara  he  said  darkly :  "  They  of  the  Padri's 
flock  have  put  on  clothes  and  worship  a  busy  God. 
Therefore  Dungara  will  afflict  them  grievously  till 
they  throw  themselves,  howling,  into  the  waters 
of  the  Berbulda."  At  night  the  Red  Elephant 
Tusk  boomed  and  groaned  among  the  hills,  and 
the  faithful  waked  and  said  :  "  The  God  of  Things 
as  They  Are  matures  revenge  against  the  back- 
sliders. Be  merciful,  Dungara,  to  us  Thy  children, 
and  give  us  all  their  crops  ! 

Late  in  the  cold  weather,  the  Collector  and  his 
wife  came  into  the  Buria  Kol  country.   "  Go  and 

54 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  DUNGARA 


look  at  Krenk's  Mission,"  said  Gallio.  "He  is 
doing  good  work  in  his  own  way,  and  I  think  he'd 
be  pleased  if  you  opened  the  bamboo  chapel  that 
he  has  managed  to  run  up.  At  any  rate,  you'll  see 
a  civilised  Buria  Kol." 

Great  was  the  stir  in  the  Mission.  "Now  he 
and  the  gracious  lady  will  that  we  have  done  good 
work  with  their  own  eyes  see,  and — yes  —  we  will 
him  our  converts  in  all  their  new  clothes  by  their 
own  hands  constructed  exhibit.  It  will  a  great  day 
be  —  for  the  Lord  always,"  said  Justus;  and  Lotta 
said,  "Amen."  Justus  had,  in  his  quiet  way,  felt 
jealous  of  the  Basel  Weaving  Mission,  his  own 
converts  being  unhandy;  but  Athon  Daze  had 
latterly  induced  some  of  them  to  hackle  the  glossy 
silky  fibres  of  a  plant  that  grew  plenteously  on  the 
Panth  Hills.  It  yielded  a  cloth  white  and  smooth 
almost  as  the  tappa  of  the  South  Seas,  and  that  day 
the  converts  were  to  wear  for  the  first  time  clothes 
made  therefrom.  Justus  was  proud  of  his  work. 
"  They  shall  in  white  clothes  clothed  to  meet  the 
Collector  and  his  well-born  lady  come  down,  sing- 
ing 'Now  thank  we  all  our  God.'  Then  he  will  the 
Chapel  open,  and  —  yes  —  even  Gallio  to  believe 
will  begin.  Stand  so,  my  children,  two  by  two, 
and  —  Lotta,  why  do  they  thus  themselves  be* 
scratch  ?  It  is  not  seemly  to  wriggle,  Nala,  my 
child.    The  Collector  will  be  here  and  be  pained." 

The  Collector,  his  wife,  and  Gallio  climbed  the 

55 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


hill  to  the  Mission-station.  The  converts  were 
drawn  up  in  two  lines,  a  shining  band  nearly  forty- 
strong.  "  Hah  !  "  said  the  Collector,  whose  acquis- 
itive bent  of  mind  led  him  to  believe  that  he  had 
fostered  the  institution  from  the  first.  "Advanc- 
ing, I  see,  by  leaps  and  bounds." 

Never  was  truer  word  spoken!  The  Mission 
was  advancing  exactly  as  he  had  said  —  at  first  by 
little  hops  and  shuffles  of  shamefaced  uneasiness, 
but  soon  by  the  leaps  of  fly-stung  horses  and  the 
bounds  of  maddened  kangaroos.  From  the  hill 
of  Panth  the  Red  Elephant  Tusk  delivered  a  dry 
and  anguished  blare.  The  ranks  of  the  converts 
wavered,  broke  and  scattered  with  yells  and  shrieks 
of  pain,  while  Justus  and  Lotta  stood  horror- 
stricken. 

"  It  is  the  Judgment  of  Dungara ! "  shouted  a 
voice.  "  I  burn  !  I  burn  !  To  the  river  or  we 
die!" 

The  mob  wheeled  and  headed  for  the  rocks  that 
overhung  the  Berbulda,  writhing,  stamping,  twist- 
ing, and  shedding  its  garments  as  it  ran,  pursued 
by  the  thunder  of  the  trumpet  of  Dungara.  Justus 
and  Lotta  fled  to  the  Collector  almost  in  tears. 

"  I  cannot  understand !  Yesterday,"  panted 
Justus, "  they  had  the  Ten  Commandments.  What 
is  this  ?  Praise  the  Lord  all  good  spirits  by  land 
and  by  sea.    Nala !    Oh,  shame  ! " 

With  a  bound  and  a  scream  there  alighted  on  the 

56 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  DUNGARA 


rocks  above  their  heads,  Nala,  once  the  pride  of 
the  Mission,  a  maiden  of  fourteen  summers,  good, 
docile,  and  virtuous  —  now  naked  as  the  dawn  and 
spitting  like  a  wild-cat. 

"  Was  it  for  this ! "  she  raved,  hurling  her  pet- 
ticoat at  Justus,  "  was  it  for  this  I  left  my  people 
and  Dungara — for  the  fires  of  your  Bad  Place? 
Blind  ape,  little  earthworm,  dried  fish  that  you 
are,  you  said  that  I  should  never  burn !  O  Dun- 
gara, I  burn  now!  I  burn  now  I  Have  mercy, 
God  of  Things  as  They  Are  ! " 

She  turned  and  flung  herself  into  the  Berbulda, 
and  the  trumpet  of  Dungara  bellowed  jubilantly. 
The  last  of  the  converts  of  the  Tubingen  Mission 
had  put  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  rapid  river  between 
herself  and  her  teachers. 

"Yesterday,"  gulped  Justus,  "she  taught  in 
the  school  A,  B,  C,  D. — Oh!  It  is  the  work  of 
Satan ! " 

But  Gallio  was  curiously  regarding  the  maid- 
en's petticoat  where  it  had  fallen  at  his  feet.  He 
felt  its  texture,  drew  back  his  shirt-sleeve  beyond 
the  deep  tan  of  his  wrist  and  pressed  a  fold  of  the 
cloth  against  the  flesh.  A  blotch  of  angry  red 
rose  on  the  white  skin. 

"Ah!"  said  Gallio  calmly,  "  I  thought  so." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  said  Justus. 

"  I  should  call  it  the  Shirt  of  Nessus,  but  — 
Where  did  you  get  the  fibre  of  this  cloth  from  ?  " 

57 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"  Athon  Daze,"  said  Justus.  "  He  showed  the 
boys  how  it  should  manufactured  be." 

"  The  old  fox !  Do  you  know  that  he  has  given 
you  the  Nilgiri  Nettle  —  scorpion  —  Girardenia 
beterophylla  —  to  work  up  *?  No  wonder  they 
■squirmed  I  Why,  it  stings  even  when  they  make 
bridge-ropes  of  it,  unless  it's  soaked  for  six  weeks. 
The  cunning  brute !  It  would  take  about  half 
an  hour  to  burn  through  their  thick  hides,  and 
then  1 " 

Gallio  burst  into  laughter,  but  Lotta  was  weep- 
ing in  the  arms  of  the  Collector's  wife,  and  Justus 
had  covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 

"  Girardenia  beterophylla ! "  repeated  Gallio. 
"  Krenk,  why  didn't  you  tell  me '?  I  could  have 
saved  you  this.  Woven  fire !  Anybody  but  a 
naked  Kol  would  have  known  it,  and,  if  I'm  a 
judge  of  their  ways,  you'll  never  get  them  back." 

He  looked  across  the  river  to  where  the  con- 
verts were  still  wallowing  and  wailing  in  the  shal- 
lows, and  the  laughter  died  out  of  his  eyes,  for  he 
saw  that  the  Tubingen  Mission  to  the  Buria  Kol 
was  dead. 

Never  again,  though  they  hung  mournfully 
round  the  deserted  school  for  three  months,  could 
Lotta  or  Justus  coax  back  even  the  most  prom- 
ising of  their  flock.  No  I  The  end  of  conversion 
was  the  fire  of  the  Bad  Place  —  fire  that  ran 
through  the  limbs  and  gnawed  into  the  bones. 

J8 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  DUNGARA 


Who  dare  a  second  time  tempt  the  anger  of  Dun- 
gara^  Let  the  little  man  and  his  wife  go  else- 
where. The  Buria  Kol  would  have  none  of  them. 
An  unofficial  message  to  Athon  Daze  that  if  a 
hair  of  their  heads  were  touched,  Athon  Daze  and 
the  priests  of  Dungara  would  be  hanged  by  Gallio 
at  the  temple  shrine,  protected  Justus  and  Lotta 
from  the  stumpy  poisoned  arrows  of  the  Buria 
Kol,  but  neither  fish  nor  fowl,  honeycomb,  salt 
nor  young  pig  were  brought  to  their  doors  any 
more.  And,  alas  I  man  cannot  live  by  grace  alone 
if  meat  be  wanting. 

"Let  us  go,  mine  wife,"  said  Justus;  "there  is 
no  good  here,  and  the  Lord  has  willed  that  some 
other  man  shall  the  work  take  —  in  good  time  — 
in  His  own  good  time.  We  will  go  away,  and 
I  will — yes — some  botany  bestudy." 

If  any  one  is  anxious  to  convert  the  Buria  Kol 
afresh,  there  lies  at  least  the  core  of  a  mission- 
house  under  the  hill  of  Panth.  But  the  chapel 
and  school  have  long  since  fallen  back  into  jungle. 


59 


THE  FINANCES  OF  THE  GODS 


The  evening  meal  was  ended  in  Dhunni  Bhagat's 
Chubara,  and  the  old  priests  were  smoking  or 
counting  their  beads.  A  little  naked  child  pattered 
in,  with  its  mouth  wide  open,  a  handful  of  mari- 
gold flowers  in  one  hand,  and  a  lump  of  conserved 
tobacco  in  the  other.  It  tried  to  kneel  and  make 
obeisance  to  Gobind,  but  it  was  so  fat  that  it  fell 
forward  on  its  shaven  head,  and  rolled  on  its  side, 
kicking  and  gasping,  while  the  marigolds  tumbled 
one  way  and  the  tobacco  the  other.  Gobind 
laughed,  set  it  up  again,  and  blessed  the  marigold 
flowers  as  he  received  the  tobacco. 

"  From  my  father,"  said  the  child.  "  He  has 
the  fever,  and  cannot  come.  Wilt  thou  pray  for 
him,  father?" 

"  Surely,  littlest ;  but  the  smoke  is  on  the  ground, 
and  the  night-chill  is  in  the  air,  and  it  is  not  good 
to  go  abroad  naked  in  the  autumn." 

"  I  have  no  clothes,"  said  the  child,  "  and  all  to- 
day I  have  been  carrying  cow-dung  cakes  to  the 
bazar.  It  was  very  hot,  and  I  am  very  tired."  It 
shivered  a  little,  for  the  twilight  was  cool. 

Gobind  lifted  an  arm  under  his  vast  tattered  quilt 

Copyright,  1891,  by  Macmillan  8c  Co. 

60 


THE  FINANCES  OF  THE  GODS 


of  many  colours,  and  made  an  inviting  little  nest 
by  his  side.  The  child  crept  in,  and  Gobind  filled 
his  brass-studded  leather  water-pipe  with  the  new 
tobacco.  When  I  came  to  the  Chubara  the  shaven 
head  with  the  tuft  atop  and  the  beady  black  eyes 
looked  out  of  the  folds  of  the  quilt  as  a  squirrel 
looks  out  from  his  nest,  and  Gobind  was  smiling 
while  the  child  played  with  his  beard. 

I  would  have  said  something  friendly,  but  re- 
membered in  time  that  if  the  child  fell  ill  after- 
wards I  should  be  credited  with  the  Evil  Eye,  and 
that  is  a  horrible  possession. 

"  Sit  thou  still,  Thumbling,"  I  said  as  it  made 
to  get  up  and  run  away.  "  Where  is  thy  slate, 
and  why  has  the  teacher  let  such  an  evil  character 
loose  on  the  streets  when  there  are  no  police  to 
protect  us  weaklings  In  which  ward  dost  thou 
try  to  break  thy  neck  with  flying  kites  from  the 
house-tops  ?  " 

"Nay,  Sahib,  nay,"  said  the  child,  burrowing 
its  face  into  Gobind's  beard,  and  twisting  uneasily. 
"  There  was  a  holiday  to-day  among  the  schools, 
and  I  do  not  always  fly  kites.  I  play  ker-li-kit 
like  the  rest." 

Cricket  is  the  national  game  among  the  school- 
boys of  the  Punjab,  from  the  naked  hedge-school 
children,  who  use  an  old  kerosene-tin  for  wicket, 
to  the  B.  A.'s  of  the  University,  who  compete  for 
the  Championship  belt. 

61 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"  Thou  play  kerlikit !  Thou  art  half  the  height 
of  the  bat !  "  I  said. 

The  child  nodded  resolutely.    "  Yea,  I  do  play. 

Perlay-balL  Ovj-atl  Ran,  ran,  ran!  I  know  it 
all." 

"  But  thou  must  not  forget  with  all  this  to  pray 
to  the  Gods  according  to  custom,"  said  Gobind, 
who  did  not  altogether  approve  of  cricket  and 
western  innovations. 

"  I  do  not  forget,"  said  the  child  in  a  hushed 
voice. 

"  Also  to  give  reverence  to  thy  teacher,  and 
— Gobind's  voice  softened — "to  abstain  from  pull 
ing  holy  men  by  the  beard,  little  badling.  Eh 
eh,  eh  ?  " 

The  child's  face  was  altogether  hidden  in  the 
great  white  beard,  and  it  began  to  whimper  till 
Gobind  soothed  it  as  children  are  soothed  all  the 
world  over,  with  the  promise  of  a  story. 

"  I  did  not  think  to  frighten  thee,  senseless  little 
one.  Look  up  !  Am  I  angry  ^  Are,  are,  are  I 
Shall  I  weep  too,  and  of  our  tears  make  a  great 
pond  and  drown  us  both,  and  then  thy  father  will 
never  get  well,  lacking  thee  to  pull  his  beard? 
Peace,  peace,  and  I  will  tell  thee  of  the  Gods. 
Thou  hast  heard  many  tales  *?  " 

"  Very  many,  father." 

"  Now,  this  is  a  new  one  which  thou  hast  not 
heard.    Long  and  long  ago  when  the  Gods  walked 

62 


THE  FINANCES  OF  THE  GODS 


with  men  as  they  do  to-day,  but  that  we  have  not 
faith  to  see,  Shiv,  the  greatest  of  Gods,  and  Par- 
bati,  his  wife,  were  walking  in  the  garden  of  a 
temple." 

"  Which  temple  *?  That  in  the  Nandgaon 
ward  ?  "  said  the  child. 

"Nay,  very  far  away.  Maybe  at  Trimbak  or 
Hurdwar,  whither  thou  must  make  pilgrimage 
when  thou  art  a  man.  Now,  there  was  sitting  in 
the  garden  under  the  jujube  trees  a  mendicant  that 
had  worshipped  Shiv  for  forty  years,  and  he  lived 
on  the  offerings  of  the  pious,  and  meditated  holi- 
ness night  and  day." 

"  Oh,  father,  was  it  thou  ?  "  said  the  child,  look- 
ing up  with  large  eyes. 

"  Nay,  I  have  said  it  was  long  ago,  and,  more- 
over, this  mendicant  was  married." 

"Did  they  put  him  on  a  horse  with  flowers  on 
his  head,  and  forbid  him  to  go  to  sleep  all  night 
long  ?  Thus  they  did  to  me  when  they  made  my 
wedding,"  said  the  child,  who  had  been  married  a 
few  months  before. 

"  And  what  didst  thou  do  ?  "  said  I. 

"  I  wept,  and  they  called  me  evil  names,  and 
then  I  smote  her,  and  we  wept  together." 

"Thus  did  not  the  mendicant,"  said  Gobind; 
"  for  he  was  a  holy  man,  and  very  poor.  Parbati 
perceived  him  sitting  naked  by  the  temple  steps 
where  all  went  up  and  down,  and  she  said  to  Shiv, 

63 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


*What  shall  men  think  of  the  Gods  when  the 
Gods  thus  scorn  their  worshippers  ^  For  forty 
years  yonder  man  has  prayed  to  us,  and  yet  there 
be  only  a  few  grains  of  rice  and  some  broken 
cowries  before  him,  after  all.  Men's  hearts  will  be 
hardened  by  this  thing.'  And  Shiv  said,  '  It  shall 
be  looked  to,'  and  so  he  called  to  the  temple  which 
was  the  temple  of  his  son,  Ganesh  of  the  elephant 
head,  saying,  'Son,  there  is  a  mendicant  without 
who  is  very  poor.  What  wilt  thou  do  for  him  ?  * 
Then  that  great  elephant-headed  One  awoke  in  the 
dark  and  answered,  '  In  three  days,  if  it  be  thy 
will,  he  shall  have  one  lakh  of  rupees.'  Then 
Shiv  and  Parbati  went  away. 

"  But  there  was  a  money-lender  in  the  garden 
hidden  among  the  marigolds  "  —  the  child  looked 
at  the  ball  of  crumpled  blossoms  in  its  hands  — 
"ay,  among  the  yellow  marigolds,  and  he  heard 
the  Gods  talking.  He  was  a  covetous  man,  and 
of  a  black  heart,  and  he  desired  that  lakh  of  rupees 
for  himself  So  he  went  to  the  mendicant  and 
said,  '  O  brother,  how  much  do  the  pious  give 
thee  daily  '  The  mendicant  said, '  I  cannot  tell. 
Sometimes  a  little  rice,  sometimes  a  little  pulse, 
and  a  few  cowries,  and,  it  has  been,  pickled  man- 
goes and  dried  fish.' " 

"That  is  good,"  said  the  child,  smacking  its 
lips. 

"  Then  said  the  money-lender,  '  Because  I  have 

64 


THE  FINANCES  OF  THE  GODS 


long  watched  thee,  and  learned  to  love  thee  and 
thy  patience,  I  will  give  thee  now  five  rupees 
for  all  thy  earnings  of  the  three  days  to  come. 
There  is  only  a  bond  to  sign  on  the  matter/  But 
the  mendicant  said,  '  Thou  art  mad.  In  two 
months  I  do  not  receive  the  worth  of  five  rupees,' 
and  he  told  the  thing  to  his  wife  that  evening. 
She,  being  a  woman,  said,  '  When  did  money- 
lender ever  make  a  bad  bargain  ?  The  wolf  runs 
through  the  corn  for  the  sake  of  the  fat  deer. 
Our  fate  is  in  the  hands  of  the  Gods.  Pledge  it 
not  even  for  three  days.' 

"So  the  mendicant  returned  to  the  money- 
lender, and  would  not  sell.  Then  that  wicked 
man  sat  all  day  before  him,  offering  more  and 
more  for  those  three  days'  earnings.  First,  ten, 
fifty,  and  a  hundred  rupees;  and  then,  for  he  did 
not  know  when  the  Gods  would  pour  down  their 
gifts,  rupees  by  the  thousand,  till  he  had  offered 
half  a  lakh  of  rupees.  Upon  this  sum  the  mendi- 
cant's wife  shifted  her  counsel,  and  the  mendicant 
signed  the  bond,  and  the  money  was  paid  in  sil- 
ver ;  great  white  bullocks  bringing  it  by  the  cart- 
load. But  saving  only  all  that  money,  the  men- 
dicant received  nothing  from  the  Gods  at  all,  and 
the  heart  of  the  money-lender  was  uneasy  on  ac- 
count of  expectation.  Therefore  at  noon  of  the 
third  day  the  money-lender  went  into  the  temple 
to  spy  upon  the  councils  of  the  Gods,  and  to  learn 

65 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


in  what  manner  that  gift  might  arrive.  Even  as 
he  was  making  his  prayers,  a  crack  between  the 
stones  of  the  floor  gaped,  and,  closing,  caught  him 
by  the  heel.  Then  he  heard  the  Gods  walking  in 
the  temple  in  the  darkness  of  the  columns,  and 
Shiv  called  to  his  son  Ganesh,  saying,  '  Son,  what 
hast  thou  done  in  regard  to  the  lakh  of  rupees 
for  the  mendicant  ? '  And  Ganesh  woke,  for  the 
money-lender  heard  the  dry  rustle  of  his  trunk 
uncoiling,  and  he  answered,  'Father,  one  half  of 
the  money  has  been  paid,  and  the  debtor  for 
the  other  half  I  hold  here  fast  by  the  heel.' " 

The  child  bubbled  with  laughter.  "  And  the 
money-lender  paid  the  mendicant    "  it  said. 

"  Surely,  for  he  whom  the  Gods  hold  by  the 
heel  must  pay  to  the  uttermost.  The  money  was 
paid  at  evening,  all  silver,  in  great  carts,  and  thus 
Ganesh  did  his  work." 

"  Nathu  !    Ohe,  Nathu  ! " 

A  woman  was  calling  in  the  dusk  by  the  door 
of  the  courtyard. 

The  child  began  to  wriggle.  "  That  is  my 
mother,"  it  said. 

"  Go  then,  littlest,"  answered  Gobind ;  "  but 
stay  a  moment." 

He  ripped  a  generous  yard  from  his  patchwork- 
quilt,  put  it  over  the  child's  shoulders,  and  the 
child  ran  away. 


66 


AT  HOWLI  THANA 


His  own  shoe,  his  own  head. — Native  Proverb. 

As  a  messenger,  if  the  heart  of  the  Presence  be 
moved  to  so  great  favour.  And  on  six  rupees. 
Yes,  Sahib,  for  I  have  three  little  little  children 
whose  stomachs  are  always  empty,  and  corn  is 
now  but  forty  pounds  to  the  rupee.  I  will  make 
so  clever  a  messenger  that  you  shall  all  day  long 
be  pleased  with  me,  and,  at  the  end  of  the  year, 
bestow  a  turban.  I  know  all  the  roads  of  the  Sta- 
tion and  many  other  things.  Aha,  Sahib  I  I  am 
clever.  Give  me  service.  I  was  aforetime  in  the 
Police.  A  bad  character  Now  without  doubt  an 
enemy  has  told  this  tale.  Never  was  I  a  scamp.  I 
am  a  man  of  clean  heart,  and  all  my  words  are  true. 
They  knew  this  when  I  was  in  the  Police.  They 
said:  "  Afzal  Khan  is  a  true  speaker  in  whose  words 
men  may  trust."  I  am  a  Delhi  Pathan,  Sahib  — 
all  Delhi  Pathans  are  good  men.  You  have  seen 
Delhi  *?  Yes,  it  is  true  that  there  be  many  scamps 
among  the  Delhi  Pathans.  How  wise  is  the  Sa- 
hib! Nothing  is  hid  from  his  eyes,  and  he  will 
make  me  his  messenger,  and  I  will  take  all  his 

67 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


notes  secretly  and  without  ostentation.  Nay,  Sa- 
hib, God  is  my  witness  that  I  meant  no  evil.  I 
have  long  desired  to  serve  under  a  true  Sahib  —  a 
virtuous  Sahib.  Many  young  Sahibs  are  as  devils 
unchained.  With  these  Sahibs  I  would  take  no 
service  —  not  though  all  the  stomachs  of  my  little 
children  were  crying  for  bread. 

Why  am  I  not  still  in  the  Police  ?  I  will  speak 
true  talk.  An  evil  came  to  the  Thana  —  to  Ram 
Baksh,  the  Havildar,  and  Maula  Baksh,  and  Jug- 
gut  Ram  and  Bhim  Singh  and  Suruj  Bui.  Ram 
Baksh  is  in  the  jail  for  a  space,  and  so  also  is 
Maula  Baksh. 

It  was  at  the  Thana  of  Howli,  on  the  road 
that  leads  to  Gokral-Seetarun,  wherein  are  many 
dacoits.  We  were  all  brave  men  —  Rustums. 
Wherefore  we  were  sent  to  that  Thana,  which  was 
eight  miles  from  the  next  Thana.  All  day  and  all 
night  we  watched  for  dacoits.  Why  does  the 
Sahib  laugh  ?  Nay,  I  will  make  a  confession. 
The  dacoits  were  too  clever,  and,  seeing  this,  we 
made  no  further  trouble.  It  was  in  the  hot  weather. 
What  can  a  man  do  in  the  hot  days  Is  the  Sahib 
who  is  so  strong  —  is  he,  even,  vigorous  in  that 
hour*?  We  made  an  arrangement  with  the  da- 
coits for  the  sake  of  peace.  That  was  the  work 
of  the  Havildar,  who  was  fat.  Ho !  Ho !  Sahib, 
he  is  now  getting  thin  in  the  jail  among  the  car- 
pets.   The  Havildar  said:  "Give  us  no  trouble, 

68 


AT  HOWLI  THANA 


and  we  will  give  you  no  trouble.  At  the  end  of 
the  reaping  send  us  a  man  to  lead  before  the  judge, 
a  man  of  infirm  mind  against  whom  the  trumped- 
up  case  will  break  down.  Thus  we  shall  save  our 
honour."  To  this  talk  the  dacoits  agreed,  and 
we  had  no  trouble  at  the  Thana,  and  could  eat 
melons  in  peace,  sitting  upon  our  charpoys  all 
day  long.  Sweet  as  sugar-cane  are  the  melons  of 
Howli. 

Now  there  was  an  assistant  commissioner — a 
Stunt  Sahib,  in  that  district,  called  Yunkum  Sahib. 
Aha !  He  was  hard  —  hard  even  as  is  the  Sahib 
who,  without  doubt,  will  give  me  the  shadow  of 
his  protection.  Many  eyes  had  Yunkum  Sahib, 
and  moved  quickly  through  his  district.  Men 
called  him  The  Tiger  of  Gokral-Seetarun,  be- 
cause he  would  arrive  unannounced  and  make  his 
kill,  and,  before  sunset,  would  be  giving  trouble 
to  the  Tehsildars  thirty  miles  away.  No  one  knew 
the  comings  or  the  goings  of  Yunkum  Sahib.  He 
had  no  camp,  and  when  his  horse  was  weary  he 
rode  upon  a  devil-carriage.  I  do  not  know  its 
name,  but  the  Sahib  sat  in  the  midst  of  three  silver 
wheels  that  made  no  creaking,  and  drave  them 
with  his  legs,  prancing  like  a  bean-fed  horse — ■ 
thus.  A  shadow  of  a  hawk  upon  the  fields  was 
not  fTiore  without  noise  than  the  devil-carriage  of 
Yunkum  Sahib.  It  was  here :  it  was  there :  it 
was  gone:  and  the  rapport  was  made,  and  there 

69 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


was  trouble.  Ask  the  Tehsildar  of  Rohestri  how 
the  hen-stealing  came  to  be  known,  Sahib. 

It  fell  upon  a  night  that  we  of  the  Thana  slept 
according  to  custom  upon  our  charpoys,  having 
eaten  the  evening  meal  and  drunk  tobacco.  When 
we  awoke  in  the  morning,  behold,  of  our  six 
rifles  not  one  remained  I  Also,  the  big  Police- 
book  that  was  in  the  Havildar's  charge  was  gone. 
Seeing  these  things,  we  were  very  much  afraid, 
thinking  on  our  parts  that  the  dacoits,  regardless 
of  honour,  had  come  by  night  and  put  us  to  shame. 
Then  said  Ram  Baksh,  the  Havildar:  "Be  silent! 
The  business  is  an  evil  business,  but  it  may  yet 
go  well.  Let  us  make  the  case  complete.  Bring 
a  kid  and  my  tulwar.  See  you  not  now^  O  fools 
A  kick  for  a  horse,  but  a  word  is  enough  for  a 
man." 

We  of  the  Thana,  perceiving  quickly  what  was 
in  the  mind  of  the  Havildar,  and  greatly  fearing 
that  the  service  would  be  lost,  made  haste  to  take 
the  kid  into  the  inner  room,  and  attended  to  the 
words  of  the  Havildar.  "  Twenty  dacoits  came," 
said  the  Havildar,  and  we,  taking  his  words,  re- 
peated after  him  according  to  custom.  "  There 
was  a  great  fight,"  said  the  Havildar,  "  and  of  us 
no  man  escaped  unhurt.  The  bars  of  the  window 
were  broken.  Suruj  Bui,  see  thou  to  that;  and, 
O  men,  put  speed  into  your  work,  for  a  runner 
must  go  with  the  news  to  The  Tiger  of  Gokral- 

70 


AT  HOWLI  THANA 


Seetarun."  Thereon,  Suruj  Bui,  leaning  with  his 
shoulder,  brake  in  the  bars  of  the  window,  and  I, 
beating  her  with  a  whip,  made  the  Havildar's  mare 
skip  among  the  melon-beds  till  they  were  much 
trodden  with  hoof-prints. 

These  things  being  made,  I  returned  to  the 
Thana,  and  the  goat  was  slain,  and  certain  por- 
tions of  the  walls  were  blackened  with  fire,  and 
each  man  dipped  his  clothes  a  little  into  the  blood 
of  the  goat.  Know,  O  Sahib,  that  a  wound  made 
by  man  upon  his  own  body  can,  by  those  skilled, 
be  easily  discerned  from  a  wound  wrought  by  an- 
other man.  Therefore,  the  Havildar,  taking  his 
tulwar,  smote  one  of  us  lightly  on  the  forearm  in 
the  fat,  and  another  on  the  leg,  and  a  third  on  the 
back  of  the  hand.  Thus  dealt  he  with  all  of  us 
till  the  blood  came;  and  Suruj  Bui,  more  eager 
than  the  others,  took  out  much  hair.  O  Sahib, 
never  was  so  perfect  an  arrangement.  Yea,  even 
I  would  have  sworn  that  the  Thana  had  been 
treated  as  we  said.  There  was  smoke  and  break- 
ing and  blood  and  trampled  earth. 

"  Ride  now,  Maula  Baksh,"  said  the  Havildar, 
"  to  the  house  of  the  Stunt  Sahib,  and  carry  the 
news  of  the  dacoity.  Do  you  also,  O  Afzal  Khan, 
run  there,  and  take  heed  that  you  are  mired  with 
sweat  and  dust  on  your  in-coming.  The  blood 
will  be  dry  on  the  clothes.  I  will  stay  and  send 
a  straight  report  to  the  Dipty  Sahib,  and  we  will 

71 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


catch  certain  that  ye  know  of,  villagers,  so  that  all 
may  be  ready  against  the  Dipty  Sahib's  arrival." 

Thus  Maula  Baksh  rode  and  I  ran  hanging  on 
the  stirrup,  and  together  we  came  in  an  evil  plight 
before  The  Tiger  of  Gokral-Seetarun  in  the  Ro- 
hestri  tehsil.  Our  tale  was  long  and  correct,  Sa- 
hib, for  we  gave  even  the  names  of  the  dacoits 
and  the  issue  of  the  fight,  and  besought  him  to 
come.  But  The  Tiger  made  no  sign,  and  only 
smiled  after  the  manner  of  Sahibs  when  they  have 
a  wickedness  in  their  hearts.  "  Swear  ye  to  the 
rapport  ?  "  said  he,  and  we  said :  "  Thy  servants 
swear.  The  blood  of  the  fight  is  but  newly  dry 
upon  us.  Judge  thou  if  it  be  the  blood  of  the 
servants  of  the  Presence,  or  not."  And  he  said : 
I  see.  Ye  have  done  well."  But  he  did  not 
call  for  his  horse  or  his  devil-carriage,  and  scour 
the  land  as  was  his  custom.  He  said:  "Rest  now 
and  eat  bread,  for  ye  be  wearied  men.  I  will  wait 
the  coming  of  the  Dipty  Sahib." 

Now  it  is  the  order  that  the  Havildar  of  the 
Thana  should  send  a  straight  report  of  all  dacoi- 
ties  to  the  Dipty  Sahib.  At  noon  came  he,  a  fat 
man  and  an  old,  and  overbearing  withal,  but  we 
of  the  Thana  had  no  fear  of  his  anger ;  dreading 
more  the  silences  of  The  Tiger  of  Gokral-See- 
tarun. With  him  came  Ram  Baksh,  the  Havil- 
dar, and  the  others,  guarding  ten  men  of  the  vil- 
lage of  Howli  —  all  men  evil  affected  towards  the 

72 


AT  HOWLI  THANA 


Police  of  the  Sirkar.  As  prisoners  they  came, 
the  irons  upon  their  hands,  crying  for  mercy  — 
Imam  Baksh,  the  farmer,  who  had  denied  his  wife 
to  the  Havildar,  and  others,  ill-conditioned  rascals 
against  whom  we  of  the  Thana  bore  spite.  It 
was  well  done,  and  the  Havildar  was  proud.  But 
the  Dipty  Sahib  was  angry  with  the  Stunt  for  lack 
of  zeal,  and  said  "Dam-Dam"  after  the  custom 
of  the  English  people,  and  extolled  the  Havildar. 
Yunkum  Sahib  lay  still  in  his  long  chair.  "  Have 
the  men  sworn  ?  "  said  Yunkum  Sahib.  "  Aye, 
and  captured  ten  evildoers,"  said  the  Dipty  Sahib. 
"  There  be  more  abroad  in  your  charge.  Take 
horse  —  ride,  and  go  in  the  name  of  the  Sirkar ! " 
"  Truly  there  be  more  evildoers  abroad,"  said 
Yunkum  Sahib,  "  but  there  is  no  need  of  a  horse. 
Come  all  men  with  me." 

I  saw  the  mark  of  a  string  on  the  temples  of 
Imam  Baksh.  Does  the  Presence  know  the  tor- 
ture of  the  Cold  Draw  ?  I  saw  also  the  face  of 
The  Tiger  of  Gokral-Seetarun,  the  evil  smile  was 
upon  it,  and  I  stood  back  ready  for  what  might 
befall.  Well  it  was,  Sahib,  that  I  did  this  thing. 
Yunkum  Sahib  unlocked  the  door  of  his  bath- 
room, and  smiled  anew.  Within  lay  the  six  rifles 
and  the  big  Police-book  of  the  Thana  of  Howli  I 
He  had  come  by  night  in  the  devil-carriage  that  is 
noiseless  as  a  ghoul,  and  moving  among  us  asleep, 
had  taken  away  both  the  guns  and  the  book ! 

73 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


Twice  had  he  come  to  the  Thana,  taking  each 
time  three  rifles.  The  liver  of  the  Havildar  was 
turned  to  water,  and  he  fell  scrabbling  in  the  dirt 
about  the  boots  of  Yunkum  Sahib,  crying  — 
"  Have  mercy  !  " 

And  I  ?  Sahib,  I  am  a  Delhi  Pathan,  and  a 
young  man  with  little  children.  The  Havildar's 
mare  was  in  the  compound.  I  ran  to  her  and 
rode :  the  black  wrath  of  the  Sirkar  was  behind 
me,  and  I  knew  not  whither  to  go.  Till  she 
dropped  and  died  I  rode  the  red  mare ;  and  by 
the  blessing  of  God,  who  is  without  doubt  on  the 
side  of  all  just  men,  I  escaped.  But  the  Havildar 
and  the  rest  are  now  in  jail. 

I  am  a  scamp  It  is  as  the  Presence  pleases. 
God  will  make  the  Presence  a  Lord,  and  give  him 
a  rich  Memsahih  as  fair  as  a  Peri  to  wife,  and  many 
strong  sons,  if  he  makes  me  his  orderly.  The 
Mercy  of  Heaven  be  upon  the  Sahib  !  Yes,  I  will 
only  go  to  the  bazar  and  bring  my  children  to 
these  so-palace-like  quarters,  and  then  —  the  Pres- 
ence is  my  Father  and  my  Mother,  and  I,  Afzal 
Khan,  am  his  slave. 

Ohe,  Sirdar-ji!  I  also  am  of  the  household  of 
the  Sahib. 


74 


IN  FLOOD  TIME 


Tweed  said  tae  Till  : 
"  What  gars  ye  rin  sae  still  ?  ** 

Till  said  tae  Tweed  : 
"  Though  ye  rin  wi*  speed 

An*  I  rin  slaw — 

Yet  where  ye  droon  ae  man 

I  droon  twa." 

There  is  no  getting  over  the  river  to-night,  Sahib. 
They  say  that  a  bullock-cart  has  been  washed  down 
already,  and  the  ekka  that  went  over  a  half  hour 
before  you  came  has  not  yet  reached  the  far  side. 
Is  the  Sahib  in  haste  ?  I  will  drive  the  ford-ele- 
phant in  to  show  him.  Ohe,  mahout  there  in  the 
shed  I  Bring  out  Ram  Pershad,  and  if  he  will  face 
the  current,  good.  An  elephant  never  lies,  Sahib, 
and  Ram  Pershad  is  separated  from  his  friend  Kala 
Nag.  He,  too,  wishes  to  cross  to  the  far  side. 
Well  done !  Well  done !  my  King !  Go  half 
way  across,  mahoutp^  and  see  what  the  river  says. 
Well  done,  Ram  Pershad !  Pearl  among  ele- 
phants, go  into  the  river !  Hit  him  on  the  head, 
fool!  Was  the  goad  made  only  to  scratch  thy 
own  fat  back  with,  bastard  ?    Strike !    Strike ! 

75 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


What  are  the  boulders  to  thee,  Ram  Pershad, 
my  Rustum,  my  mountain  of  strength  ?  Go  in ! 
Go  in ! 

No,  Sahib !  It  is  useless.  You  can  hear  him 
trumpet.  He  is  telling  Kala  Nag  that  he  cannot 
come  over.  See !  He  has  swung  round  and  is 
shaking  his  head.  He  is  no  fool.  He  knows 
what  the  Barhwi  means  when  it  is  angry.  Aha ! 
Indeed,  thou  art  no  fool,  my  child !  Salaam^  Ram 
Pershad,  Bahadur!  Take  him  under  the  trees, 
mahout,  and  see  that  he  gets  his  spices.  Well 
done,  thou  chiefest  among  tuskers  I  Salaam  to 
the  Sirkar  and  go  to  sleep. 

What  is  to  be  done  ?  The  Sahib  must  wait  till 
the  river  goes  down.  It  will  shrink  to-morrow  morn- 
ing, if  God  pleases,  or  the  day  after  at  the  latest. 
Now  why  does  the  Sahib  get  so  angry I  am  his 
servant.  Before  God,  /  did  not  create  this  stream! 
What  can  I  do !  My  hut  and  all  that  is  therein 
is  at  the  service  of  the  Sahib,  and  it  is  beginning 
to  rain.  Come  away,  my  Lord.  How  will  the 
river  go  down  for  your  throwing  abuse  at  it  ?  In 
the  old  days  the  English  people  were  not  thus. 
The  fire-carriage  has  made  them  soft.  In  the  old 
days,  when  they  drave  behind  horses  by  day  or  by 
night,  they  said  naught  if  a  river  barred  the  way, 
or  a  carriage  sat  down  in  the  mud.  It  was  the 
will  of  God  —  not  like  a  fire-carriage  which  goes 
and  goes  and  goes,  and  would  go  though  all  the 

76 


IN  FLOOD  TIME 


devils  in  the  land  hung  on  to  its  tail.  The  fire- 
carriage  hath  spoiled  the  English  people.  After 
all,  what  is  a  day  lost,  or,  for  that  matter,  what  are 
two  days?  Is  the  Sahib  going  to  his  own  wed- 
ding, that  he  is  so  mad  with  haste  ?  Ho  !  Ho  ! 
Ho  I  I  am  an  old  man  and  see  few  Sahibs.  For- 
give me  if  I  have  forgotten  the  respect  that  is  due 
to  them.    The  Sahib  is  not  angry '? 

His  own  wedding !  Ho  I  Ho  !  Ho !  The 
mind  of  an  old  man  is  like  the  numah-xxtt.  Fruit, 
bud,  blossom,  and  the  dead  leaves  of  all  the  years 
of  the  past  flourish  together.  Old  and  new  and 
that  which  is  gone  out  of  remembrance,  all  three 
are  there !  Sit  on  the  bedstead.  Sahib,  and  drink 
milk.  Or  —  would  the  Sahib  in  truth  care  to 
drink  my  tobacco  ?  It  is  good.  It  is  the  tobacco 
of  Nuklao.  My  son,  who  is  in  service  there,  sent 
it  to  me.  Drink,  then.  Sahib,  if  you  know  how  to 
handle  the  tube.  The  Sahib  takes  it  like  a  Musal- 
man.  Wah !  Wah !  Where  did  he  learn  that  ? 
His  own  wedding  I  Ho !  Ho !  Ho !  The  Sahib 
says  that  there  is  no  wedding  in  the  matter  at  all  ? 
Now  is  it  likely  that  the  Sahib  would  speak  true 
talk  to  me  who  am  only  a  black  man*?  Small 
wonder,  then,  that  he  is  in  haste.  Thirty  years 
have  I  beaten  the  gong  at  this  ford,  but  never  have 
I  seen  a  Sahib  in  such  haste.  Thirty  years,  Sahib! 
That  is  a  very  long  time.  Thirty  years  ago  this 
ford  was  on  the  track  of  the  bunjaras^  and  I  have 

77 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


seen  two  thousand  pack-bullocks  cross  in  one  night. 
Now  the  rail  has  come,  and  the  fire-carriage  says 
buz-buz'buz^  and  a  hundred  lakhs  of  maunds  slide 
across  that  big  bridge.  It  is  very  wonderful;  but 
the  ford  is  lonely  now  that  there  are  no  bunjaras  to 
camp  under  the  trees. 

Nay,  do  not  trouble  to  look  at  the  sky  without. 
It  will  rain  till  the  dawn.  Listen  !  The  boulders 
are  talking  to-night  in  the  bed  of  the  river.  Hear 
them  I  They  would  be  husking  your  bones. 
Sahib,  had  you  tried  to  cross.  See,  I  will  shut  the 
door  and  no  rain  can  enter.  Wahil  Ahil  Ugh  I 
Thirty  years  on  the  banks  of  the  ford !  An  old 
man  am  I,  and  —  where  is  the  oil  for  the  lamp  % 

Your  pardon,  but,  because  of  my  years,  I  sleep 
no  sounder  than  a  dog;  and  you  moved  to  the 
door.  Look  then,  Sahib.  Look  and  listen.  A 
full  half  y^<7j"  from  bank  to  bank  is  the  stream  now 
— you  can  see  it  under  the  stars — and  there  are 
ten  feet  of  water  therein.  It  will  not  shrink  be- 
cause of  the  anger  in  your  eyes,  and  it  will  not  be 
quiet  on  account  of  your  curses.  Which  is  louder. 
Sahib  —  your  voice  or  the  voice  of  the  river  ^ 
Call  to  it  —  perhaps  it  will  be  ashamed.  Lie 
down  and  sleep  afresh,  Sahib.  I  know  the  anger 
of  the  Barhwi  when  there  has  fallen  rain  in  the 
foot-hills.  I  swam  the  flood,  once,  on  a  night  ten- 
fold worse  than  this,  and  by  the  Favour  of  God  I 

78 


IN  FLOOD  TIME 


was  released  from  death  when  I  had  come  to  the 
very  gates  thereof. 

May  I  tell  the  tale  '?  Very  good  talk.  I  will 
fill  the  pipe  anew. 

Thirty  years  ago  it  was,  when  I  was  a  young 
man  and  had  but  newly  come  to  the  ford.  I  was 
strong  then,  and  the  bunjaras  had  no  doubt  when 
I  said,  "  This  ford  is  clear."  I  have  toiled  all  night 
up  to  my  shoulder-blades  in  running  water  amid  a 
hundred  bullocks  mad  with  fear,  and  have  brought 
them  across,  losing  not  a  hoof  When  all  was 
done  I  fetched  the  shivering  men,  and  they  gave 
me  for  reward  the  pick  of  their  cattle  —  the  bell- 
bullock  of  the  drove.  So  great  was  the  honour  in 
which  I  was  held  !  But  to-day,  when  the  rain  falls 
and  the  river  rises,  I  creep  into  my  hut  and  whim- 
per like  a  dog.  My  strength  is  gone  from  me. 
I  am  an  old  man,  and  the  fire-carriage  has  made 
the  ford  desolate.  They  were  wont  to  call  me  the 
Strong  One  of  the  Barhwi. 

Behold  my  face.  Sahib  —  it  is  the  face  of  a 
monkey.  And  my  arm  —  it  is  the  arm  of  an  old 
woman.  I  swear  to  you.  Sahib,  that  a  woman  has 
loved  this  face  and  has  rested  in  the  hollow  of  this 
arm.  Twenty  years  ago.  Sahib.  Believe  me,  this 
was  true  talk  —  twenty  years  ago. 

Come  to  the  door  and  look  across.  Can  you 
see  a  thin  fire  very  far  away  down  the  stream*? 
That  is  the  temple-fire  in  the  shrine  of  Hanuman, 

79 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


of  the  village  of  Pateera.  North,  under  the  big 
star,  is  the  village  itself,  but  't  is  hidden  by  a  bend 
of  the  river.  Is  that  far  to  swim.  Sahib  ?  Would 
you  take  off  your  clothes  and  adventure  ?  Yet  I 
swam  to  Pateera  —  not  once,  but  many  times ;  and 
there  are  muggers  in  the  river  too. 

Love  knows  no  caste;  else  why  should  I,  a 
Musalman  and  the  son  of  a  Musalman,  have  sought 
a  Hindu  woman  —  a  widow  of  the  Hindus  —  the 
sister  of  the  headman  of  Pateera But  it  was  even 
so.  They  of  the  headman's  household  came  on  a 
pilgrimage  to  Muttra  when  She  was  but  newly  a 
bride.  Silver  tires  were  upon  the  wheels  of  the 
bullock-cart,  and  silken  curtains  hid  the  woman. 
Sahib,  I  made  no  haste  in  their  conveyance,  for  the 
wind  parted  the  curtains  and  I  saw  Her.  When 
they  returned  from  pilgrimage  the  boy  that  was 
Her  husband  had  died,  and  I  saw  Her  again  in 
the  bullock-cart.  By  God,  these  Hindus  are  fools ! 
What  was  it  to  me  whether  She  was  Hindu  or 
Jain  —  scavenger,  leper,  or  whole  ?  I  would  have 
married  Her  and  made  Her  a  home  by  the  ford. 
The  Seventh  of  the  Nine  Bars  says  that  a  man 
may  not  marry  one  of  the  idolaters  ?  Is  that 
truth  Both  Shiahs  and  Sunnis  say  that  a  Musal- 
man may  not  marry  one  of  the  idolaters  %  Is  the 
Sahib  a  priest,  then,  that  he  knows  so  much?  I 
will  tell  him  something  that  he  does  not  know. 
„  There  is  neither  Shiah  nor  Sunni,  forbidden  nor 

80 


IN  FLOOD  TIME 


idolater,  in  Love ;  and  the  Nine  Bars  are  but  nine 
little  fagots  that  the  flame  of  Love  utterly  burns 
away.  In  truth,  I  would  have  taken  Her;  but 
what  could  I  do?  The  headman  would  have 
sent  his  men  to  break  my  head  with  staves.  I 
am  not  —  I  was  not  —  afraid  of  any  five  men; 
but  against  half  a  village  who  can  prevail? 

Therefore  it  was  my  custom,  these  things  hav- 
ing been  arranged  between  us  twain,  to  go  by 
night  to  the  village  of  Pateera,  and  there  we  met 
among  the  crops ;  no  man  knowing  aught  of  the 
matter.  Behold,  now !  I  was  wont  to  cross  here, 
skirting  the  jungle  to  the  river  bend  where  the 
railway  bridge  is,  and  thence  across  the  elbow  of 
land  to  Pateera.  The  light  of  the  shrine  was  my 
guide  when  the  nights  were  dark.  That  jungle 
near  the  river  is  very  full  of  snakes  —  little  ka- 
raits  that  sleep  on  the  sand  —  and  moreover.  Her 
brothers  would  have  slain  me  had  they  found  me 
in  the  crops.  But  none  knew  —  none  knew  save 
She  and  I ;  and  the  blown  sand  of  the  river-bed 
covered  the  track  of  my  feet.  In  the  hot  months 
it  was  an  easy  thing  to  pass  from  the  ford  to  Pa- 
teera, and  in  the  first  Rains,  when  the  river  rose 
slowly,  it  was  an  easy  thing  also.  I  set  the 
strength  of  my  body  against  the  strength  of  the 
stream,  and  nightly  I  ate  in  my  hut  here  and 
drank  at  Pateera  yonder.  She  had  said  that  one 
Hirnam  Singh,  a  thief,  had  sought  Her,  and  he 

81 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


was  of  a  village  up  the  river  but  on  the  same 
bank.  All  Sikhs  are  dogs,  and  they  have  refused 
in  their  folly  that  good  gift  of  God  —  tobacco.  I 
was  ready  to  destroy  Hirnam  Singh  that  ever  he 
had  come  nigh  Her;  and  the  more  because  he 
had  sworn  to  Her  that  She  had  a  lover,  and  that 
he  would  lie  in  wait  and  give  the  name  to  the 
headman  unless  She  went  away  with  him.  What 
curs  are  these  Sikhs  ! 

After  that  news,  I  swam  always  with  a  little 
sharp  knife  in  my  belt,  and  evil  would  it  have 
been  for  a  man  had  he  stayed  me.  I  knew  not 
the  face  of  Hirnam  Singh,  but  I  would  have  killed 
any  who  came  between  me  and  Her. 

Upon  a  night  in  the  beginning  of  the  Rains,  I 
was  minded  to  go  across  to  Pateera,  albeit  the 
river  was  angry.  Now  the  nature  of  the  Barhwi 
is  this.  Sahib.  In  twenty  breaths  it  comes  down 
from  the  Hills,  a  wall  three  feet  high,  and  I  have 
seen  it,  between  the  lighting  of  a  fire  and  the 
cooking  of  a  chupatt)\  grow  from  a  runnel  to  a 
sister  of  the  Jumna. 

When  I  left  this  bank  there  was  a  shoal  a  half 
mile  down,  and  I  made  shift  to  fetch  it  and  draw 
breath  there  ere  going  forward;  for  I  felt  the 
hands  of  the  river  heavy  upon  my  heels.  Yet 
what  will  a  young  man  not  do  for  Love's  sake  ? 
There  was  but  little  light  from  the  stars,  and  mid- 
way to  the  shoal  a  branch  of  the  stinking  deodar 

82 


IN  FLOOD  TIME 

tree  brushed  my  mouth  as  I  swam.  That  was  a 
sign  of  heavy  rain  in  the  foot-hills  and  beyond, 
for  the  deodar  is  a  strong  tree,  not  easily  shaken 
from  the  hillsides.  I  made  haste,  the  river  aiding 
me,  but  ere  I  had  touched  the  shoal,  the  pulse  of 
the  stream  beat,  as  it  were,  within  me  and  around, 
and,  behold,  the  shoal  was  gone  and  I  rode  high 
on  the  crest  of  a  wave  that  ran  from  bank  to  bank. 
Has  the  Sahib  ever  been  cast  into  much  water 
that  fights  and  will  not  let  a  man  use  his  limbs  ? 
To  me,  my  head  upon  the  water,  it  seemed  as 
though  there  were  naught  but  water  to  the  world's 
end,  and  the  river  drave  me  with  its  driftwood. 
A  man  is  a  very  little  thing  in  the  belly  of  a 
flood.  And  this  flood,  though  I  knew  it  not,  was 
the  Great  Flood  about  which  men  talk  still.  My 
liver  was  dissolved  and  I  lay  like  a  log  upon  my 
back  in  the  fear  of  Death.  There  were  living 
things  in  the  water,  crying  and  howling  griev- 
ously—  beasts  of  the  forest  and  cattle,  and  once 
the  voice  of  a  man  asking  for  help.  But  the  rain 
came  and  lashed  the  water  white,  and  I  heard  no 
more  save  the  roar  of  the  boulders  below  and  the 
roar  of  the  rain  above.  Thus  I  was  whirled  down- 
stream, wrestling  for  the  breath  in  me.  It  is  very 
hard  to  die  when  one  is  young.  Can  the  Sahib, 
standing  here,  see  the  railway  bridge  ?  Look, 
there  are  the  lights  of  the  mail-train  going  to  Pe- 
shawur!   The  bridge  is  now  twenty  feet  above 

83 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


the  river,  but  upon  that  night  the  water  was  roar- 
ing against  the  lattice-work  and  against  the  lattice 
came  I  feet  first.  But  much  driftwood  was  piled 
there  and  upon  the  piers,  and  I  took  no  great 
hurt.  Only  the  river  pressed  me  as  a  strong  man 
presses  a  weaker.  Scarcely  could  I  take  hold  of 
the  lattice-work  and  crawl  to  the  upper  boom. 
Sahib,  the  water  was  foaming  across  the  rails  a 
foot  deep !  Judge  therefore  what  manner  of  flood 
it  must  have  been.  I  could  not  hear.  I  could  not 
see.  I  could  but  lie  on  the  boom  and  pant  for  breath. 

After  a  while  the  rain  ceased  and  there  came 
out  in  the  sky  certain  new  washed  stars,  and  by 
their  light  I  saw  that  there  was  no  end  to  the 
black  water  as  far  as  the  eye  could  travel,  and 
the  water  had  risen  upon  the  rails.  There  were 
dead  beasts  in  the  driftwood  on  the  piers,  and 
others  caught  by  the  neck  in  the  lattice-work,  and 
others  not  yet  drowned  who  strove  to  find  a  foot- 
hold on  the  lattice-work — buffaloes  and  kine,  and 
wild  pig,  and  deer  one  or  two,  and  snakes  and 
jackals  past  all  counting.  Their  bodies  were 
black  upon  the  left  side  of  the  bridge,  but  the 
smaller  of  them  were  forced  through  the  lattice- 
work and  whirled  down-stream. 

Thereafter  the  stars  died  and  the  rain  came 
down  afresh  and  the  river  rose  yet  more,  and  I 
felt  the  bridge  begin  to  stir  under  me  as  a  man 
stirs  in  his  sleep  ere  he  wakes.    But  I  was  not 

84 


IN  FLOOD  TIME 


afraid,  Sahib.  I  swear  to  you  that  I  was  not 
afraid,  though  I  had  no  power  in  my  Umbs.  I 
knew  that  I  should  not  die  till  I  had  seen  Her 
once  more.  But  I  was  very  cold,  and  I  felt  that 
the  bridge  must  go. 

There  was  a  trembling  in  the  water,  such  a 
trembling  as  goes  before  the  coming  of  a  great 
wave,  and  the  bridge  lifted  its  flank  to  the  rush  of 
that  coming  so  that  the  right  lattice  dipped  under 
water  and  the  left  rose  clear.  On  my  beard. 
Sahib,  I  am  speaking  God's  truth  I  As  a  Mirz- 
apore  stone-boat  careens  to  the  wind,  so  the  Barhwi 
Bridge  turned.    Thus  and  in  no  other  manner. 

I  slid  from  the  boom  into  deep  water,  and  be- 
hind me  came  the  wave  of  the  wrath  of  the  river.  I 
heard  its  voice  and  the  scream  of  the  middle  part 
of  the  bridge  as  it  moved  from  the  piers  and  sank, 
and  I  knew  no  more  till  I  rose  in  the  middle  of 
the  great  flood.  I  put  forth  my  hand  to  swim, 
and  lo !  it  fell  upon  the  knotted  hair  of  the  head 
of  a  man.  He  was  dead,  for  no  one  but  I,  the 
Strong  One  of  Barhwi,  could  have  lived  in  that 
race.  He  had  been  dead  full  two  days,  for  he  rode 
high,  wallowing,  and  was  an  aid  to  me.  I  laughed 
then,  knowing  for  a  surety  that  I  should  yet  see 
Her  and  take  no  harm ;  and  I  twisted  my  fingers 
in  the  hair  of  the  man,  for  I  was  far  spent,  and 
together  we  went  down  the  stream  —  he  the  dead 
and  I  the  living.     Lacking  that  help  I  should 

8; 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 

have  sunk :  the  cold  was  in  my  marrow,  and  my 
flesh  was  ribbed  and  sodden  on  my  bones.  But 
he  had  no  fear  who  had  known  the  uttermost  of 
the  power  of  the  river;  and  I  let  him  go  where 
he  chose.  At  last  we  came  into  the  power  of  a 
side-current  that  set  to  the  right  bank,  and  I  strove 
with  my  feet  to  draw  with  it.  But  the  dead  man 
swung  heavily  in  the  whirl,  and  I  feared  that 
some  branch  had  struck  him  and  that  he  would 
sink.  The  tops  of  the  tamarisk  brushed  my  knees, 
so  I  knew  we  were  come  into  flood-water  above 
the  crops,  and,  after,  I  let  down  my  legs  and  felt 
bottom  —  the  ridge  of  a  field  —  and,  after,  the 
dead  man  stayed  upon  a  knoll  under  a  fig-tree, 
and  I  drew  my  body  from  the  water  rejoicing. 

Does  the  Sahib  know  whither  the  backwash  of 
the  flood  had  borne  me  *?  To  the  knoll  which  is 
the  eastern  boundary-mark  of  the  village  of  Pa- 
teera  I  No  other  place.  I  drew  the  dead  man  up 
on  the  grass  for  the  service  that  he  had  done  me, 
and  also  because  I  knew  not  whether  I  should  need 
him  again.  Then  I  went,  crying  thrice  like  a 
jackal,  to  the  appointed  place  which  was  near  the 
byre  of  the  headman's  house.  But  my  Love  was 
already  there,  weeping.  She  feared  that  the  flood 
had  swept  my  hut  at  the  Barhwi  Ford.  When  I 
came  softly  through  the  ankle-deep  water,  She 
thought  it  was  a  ghost  and  would  have  fled,  but  I 
put  my  arms  round  Her,  and  —  I  was  no  ghost  in 

86 


IN  FLOOD  TIME 


those  days,  though  I  am  an  old  man  now.  Ho ! 
Ho  I  Dried  corn,  in  truth.  Maize  without  juice. 
Ho!  Holi 

I  told  Her  the  story  of  the  breaking  of  the  Barhwi 
Bridge,  and  She  said  that  I  was  greater  than  mortal 
man,  for  none  may  cross  the  Barhwi  in  full  flood, 
and  I  had  seen  what  never  man  had  seen  before. 
Hand  in  hand  we  went  to  the  knoll  where  the 
dead  lay,  and  I  showed  Her  by  what  help  I  had 
made  the  ford.  She  looked  also  upon  the  body 
under  the  stars,  for  the  latter  end  of  the  night  w^as 
clear,  and  hid  Her  face  in  Her  hands,  crying:  "It 
is  the  body  of  Hirnam  Singh  !  "  I  said  :  "  The 
swine  is  of  more  use  dead  than  living,  my  Be- 
loved," and  She  said:  "Surely,  for  he  has  saved  the 
dearest  life  in  the  world  to  my  love.  None  the 
less,  he  cannot  stay  here,  for  that  would  bring 
shame  upon  me."  The  body  was  not  a  gunshot 
from  Her  door. 

Then  said  I,  rolling  the  body  with  my  hands : 
"God  hath  judged  between  us,  Hirnam  Singh, 
that  thy  blood  might  not  be  upon  my  head. 
Now,  whether  I  have  done  thee  a  wrong  in  keep- 
ing thee  from  the  burning-ghat,  do  thou  and  the 
crows  settle  together."  So  I  cast  him  adrift  into 
the  flood-water,  and  he  was  drawn  out  to  the  open, 
ever  wagging  his  thick  black  beard  like  a  priest 

1 1  grieve  to  say  that  the  Warden  of  Barhwi  Ford  is  responsible  here 
for  two  very  bad  puns  in  the  vernacular. — R.  K. 

87 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


under  the  pulpit-board.  And  I  saw  no  more  of 
Hirnam  Singh. 

Before  the  breaking  of  the  day  we  two  parted, 
and  I  moved  towards  such  of  the  jungle  as  was 
not  flooded.  With  the  full  light  I  saw  what  I 
had  done  in  the  darkness,  and  the  bones  of  my 
body  were  loosened  in  my  flesh,  for  there  ran  two 
kos  of  raging  water  between  the  village  of  Pateera 
and  the  trees  of  the  far  bank,  and,  in  the  middle, 
the  piers  of  the  Barhwi  Bridge  showed  like  broken 
teeth  in  the  jaw  of  an  old  man.  Nor  was  there 
any  life  upon  the  waters — neither  birds  nor  boats, 
but  only  an  army  of  drowned  things  —  bullocks 
and  horses  and  men  —  and  the  river  was  redder 
than  blood  from  the  clay  of  the  foot-hills.  Never 
had  I  seen  such  a  flood  —  never  since  that  year 
have  I  seen  the  like  —  and,  O  Sahib,  no  man  liv- 
ing had  done  what  I  had  done.  There  was  no 
return  for  me  that  day.  Not  for  all  the  lands  of 
the  headman  would  I  venture  a  second  time  with- 
out the  shield  of  darkness  that  cloaks  danger.  I 
went  a  kos  up  the  river  to  the  house  of  a  black- 
smith, saying  that  the  flood  had  swept  me  from 
my  hut,  and  they  gave  me  food.  Seven  days  I 
stayed  with  the  blacksmith,  till  a  boat  came  and 
I  returned  to  my  house.  There  was  no  trace  of 
wall,  or  roof,  or  floor — naught  but  a  patch  of  slimy 
mud.  Judge,  therefore,  Sahib,  how  far  the  river 
must  have  risen. 

88 


IN  FLOOD  TIME 


It  was  written  that  I  should  not  die  either  in  my 
house,  or  in  the  heart  of  the  Barhwi,  or  under  the 
wreck  of  the  Barhwi  Bridge,  for  God  sent  down 
Hirnam  Singh  two  days  dead,  though  I  know  not 
how  the  man  died,  to  be  my  buoy  and  support. 
Hirnam  Singh  has  been  in  Hell  these  twenty 
years,  and  the  thought  of  that  night  must  be 
the  flower  of  his  torment. 

Listen,  Sahib !  The  river  has  changed  its  voice. 
It  is  going  to  sleep  before  the  dawn,  to  which  there 
is  yet  one  hour.  With  the  light  it  will  come  down 
afresh.  How  do  I  know?  Have  I  been  here  thirty 
years  without  knowing  the  voice  of  the  river  as  a 
father  knows  the  voice  of  his  son  *?  Every  mo- 
ment it  is  talking  less  angrily.  I  swear  that  there 
will  be  no  danger  for  one  hour  or,  perhaps,  twa 
I  cannot  answer  for  the  morning.  Be  quick.  Sa- 
hib! I  will  call  Ram  Pershad,  and  he  will  not 
turn  back  this  time.  Is  the  paulin  tightly  corded 
upon  all  the  baggage  ?  Ohe,  mahout  with  a  mud 
head,  the  elephant  for  the  Sahib,  and  tell  them  on 
the  far  side  that  there  will  be  no  crossing  after 
daylight. 

Money  ?  Nay,  Sahib.  I  am  not  of  that  kind. 
No,  not  even  to  give  sweetmeats  to  the  baby-folk. 
My  house,  look  you,  is  empty,  and  I  am  an  old 
man. 

T>utt,  Ram  Pershad!  Duttl  Duttl  Duttl 
Good  luck  go  with  you.  Sahib. 

89 


MOTI  GUJ  — MUTINEER 


Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  cofFee-planter  in 
India  who  wished  to  clear  some  forest  land  for 
coffee-planting.  When  he  had  cut  down  all  the 
trees  and  burned  the  under-wood  the  stumps  still 
remained.  Dynamite  is  expensive  and  slow-fire 
slow.  The  happy  medium  for  stump-clearing  is* 
the  lord  of  ail  beasts,  who  is  the  elephant.  He 
will  either  push  the  stump  out  of  the  ground  with 
his  tusks,  if  he  has  any,  or  drag  it  out  with  ropes. 
The  planter,  therefore,  hired  elephants  by  ones  and 
twos  and  threes,  and  fell  to  work.  The  very  best 
of  all  the  elephants  belonged  to  the  very  worst  of 
all  the  drivers  or  mahouts;  and  the  superior  beast's 
name  was  Moti  Guj.  He  was  the  absolute  property 
of  his  mahout,  which  would  never  have  been  the 
case  under  native  rule,  for  Moti  Guj  was  a  creature 
to  be  desired  by  kings ;  and  his  name,  being  trans- 
lated, meant  the  Pearl  Elephant.  Because  the 
British  Government  was  in  the  land,  Deesa,  the 
mahout,  enjoyed  his  property  undisturbed.  He 
was  dissipated.  When  he  had  made  much  money 
through  the  strength  of  his  elephant,  he  would  get 
extremely  drunk  and  give  Moti  Guj  a  beating 

90 


MOTI  GUJ  — MUTINEER 


with  a  tent-peg  over  the  tender  nails  of  the  forefeet. 
Moti  Guj  never  trampled  the  hfe  out  of  Deesa  on 
these  occasions,  for  he  knew  that  after  the  beating 
was  over  Deesa  would  embrace  his  trunk  and 
weep  and  call  him  his  love  and  his  life  and  the 
liver  of  his  soul,  and  give  him  some  liquor.  Moti 
Guj  was  very  fond  of  liquor  —  arrack  for  choice, 
though  he  would  drink  palm-tree  toddy  if  nothing 
better  offered.  Then  Deesa  would  go  to  sleep  be- 
tween Moti  Guj's  forefeet,  and  as  Deesa  generally 
chose  the  middle  of  the  public  road,  and  as  Moti 
Guj  mounted  guard  over  him  and  would  not  per- 
mit horse,  foot,  or  cart  to  pass  by,  traffic  was  con- 
gested till  Deesa  saw  fit  to  wake  up. 

There  was  no  sleeping  in  the  daytime  on  the 
planter's  clearing:  the  wages  were  too  high  to  risk. 
Deesa  sat  on  Moti  Guj's  neck  and  gave  him  or- 
ders, while  Moti  Guj  rooted  up  the  stumps  —  for 
he  owned  a  magnificent  pair  of  tusks;  or  pulled  at 
the  end  of  a  rope  —  for  he  had  a  magnificent  pair 
of  shoulders,  while  Deesa  kicked  him  behind  the 
ears  and  said  he  was  the  king  of  elephants.  At 
evening  time  Moti  Guj  would  wash  down  his  three 
hundred  pounds'  weight  of  green  food  with  a  quart 
of  arrack,  and  Deesa  would  take  a  share  and  sing 
songs  between  Moti  Guj's  legs  till  it  was  time  to 
go  to  bed.  Once  a  week  Deesa  led  Moti  Guj 
down  to  the  river,  and  Moti  Guj  lay  on  his  side 
luxuriously  in  the  shallows,  while  Deesa  went  over 

91 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


him  with  a  coir-swab  and  a  brick.  Moti  Guj 
never  mistook  the  pounding  blow  of  the  latter  for 
the  smack  of  the  former  that  warned  him  to  get 
up  and  turn  over  on  the  other  side.  Then  Deesa 
would  look  at  his  feet,  and  examine  his  eyes,  and 
turn  up  the  fringes  of  his  mighty  ears  in  case  of 
sores  or  budding  ophthalmia.  After  inspection, 
the  two  would  "come  up  with  a  song  from  the 
sea,"  Moti  Guj  all  black  and  shining,  waving  a 
torn  tree  branch  twelve  feet  long  in  his  trunk,  and 
Deesa  knotting  up  his  own  long  wet  hair. 

It  was  a  peaceful,  well-paid  life  till  Deesa  felt 
the  return  of  the  desire  to  drink  deep.  He  wished 
for  an  orgie.  The  little  draughts  that  led  nowhere 
were  taking  the  manhood  out  of  him. 

He  went  to  the  planter,  and  "My  mother's 
dead,"  said  he,  weeping. 

"She  died  on  the  last  plantation  two  months 
ago ;  and  she  died  once  before  that  when  you  were 
working  for  me  last  year,"  said  the  planter,  who 
knew  something  of  the  ways  of  nativedom. 

"  Then  it's  my  aunt,  and  she  was  just  the  same 
as  a  mother  to  me,"  said  Deesa,  weeping  more  than 
ever.  "She  has  left  eighteen  small  children  en- 
tirely without  bread,  and  it  is  I  who  must  fill  their 
little  stomachs,"  said  Deesa,  beating  his  head  on 
the  floor. 

"  Who  brought  you  the  news  ?  "  said  the  planter. 
"  The  post,"  said  Deesa. 

92 


MOTI  GUJ  — MUTINEER 


"  There  hasn't  been  a  post  here  for  the  past  week. 
Get  back  to  your  lines  I " 

"  A  devastating  sickness  has  fallen  on  my  village, 
and  all  my  wives  are  dying,"  yelled  Deesa,  really 
in  tears  this  time. 

"  Call  Chihun,  who  comes  from  Deesa's  village,'' 
said  the  planter.    "  Chihun,  has  this  man  a  wife?" 

"  He  !  "  said  Chihun.  "  No.  Not  a  woman  of 
our  village  would  look  at  him.  They'd  sooner 
marry  the  elephant."  Chihun  snorted.  Deesa 
wept  and  bellowed. 

"You  will  get  into  a  difficulty  in  a  minute," 
said  the  planter.    "  Go  back  to  your  work  ! " 

"Now  I  will  speak  Heaven's  truth,"  gulped 
Deesa,  with  an  inspiration.  "  I  haven't  been  drunk 
for  two  months.  I  desire  to  depart  in  order  to  get 
properly  drunk  afar  off  and  distant  from  this  heav- 
enly plantation.    Thus  I  shall  cause  no  trouble." 

A  flickering  smile  crossed  the  planter's  face. 
"Deesa,"  said  he,  "you've  spoken  the  truth,  and 
I'd  give  you  leave  on  the  spot  if  anything  could 
be  done  with  Moti  Guj  while  you're  away.  You 
know  that  he  will  only  obey  your  orders." 

"  May  the  Light  of  the  Heavens  live  forty  thou- 
sand years.  I  shall  be  absent  but  ten  little  days. 
After  that,  upon  my  faith  and  honour  and  soul,  I 
return.  As  to  the  inconsiderable  interval,  have  I 
the  gracious  permission  of  the  Heaven-born  to  call 
up  Moti  Guj  ?  " 

93 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


Permission  was  granted,  and,  in  answer  to  Dee- 
sa's  shrill  yell,  the  lordly  tusker  swung  out  of  the 
shade  of  a  clump  of  trees  where  he  had  been 
squirting  dust  over  himself  till  his  master  should 
return. 

"  Light  of  my  heart,  Protector  of  the  Drunken, 
Mountain  of  Might,  give  ear,"  said  Deesa,  stand- 
ing in  front  of  him. 

Moti  Guj  gave  ear,  and  saluted  with  his  trunk. 
"  I  am  going  away,"  said  Deesa. 

Moti  Guj's  eyes  twinkled.  He  liked  jaunts  as 
well  as  his  master.  One  could  snatch  all  manner 
of  nice  things  from  the  roadside  then. 

"  But  you,  you  fubsy  old  pig,  must  stay  behind 
and  work." 

The  twinkle  died  out  as  Moti  Guj  tried  to  look 
delighted.  He  hated  stump-hauling  on  the  plan- 
tation.   It  hurt  his  teeth. 

"  I  shall  be  gone  for  ten  days,  O  Delectable 
One.  Hold  up  your  near  forefoot  and  FU  impress 
the  fact  upon  it,  warty  toad  of  a  dried  mud-pud- 
dle." Deesa  took  a  tent-peg  and  banged  Moti 
Guj  ten  times  on  the  nails.  Moti  Guj  grunted 
and  shuffled  from  foot  to  foot. 

"  Ten  days,"  said  Deesa,  "  you  must  work  and 
haul  and  root  trees  as  Chihun  here  shall  order  you. 
Take  up  Chihun  and  set  him  on  your  neck ! " 
Moti  Guj  curled  the  tip  of  his  trunk,  Chihun  put 
his  loot  there  and  was  swung  on  to  the  neck. 

94 


MOTI  GUJ  — MUTINEER 


Deesa  handed  Chihun  the  heavy  ankus,  the  iron 
elephant-goad. 

Chihun  thumped  Moti  Guj's  bald  head  as  a 
paviour  thumps  a  kerbstone. 

Moti  Guj  trumpeted. 

"Be  still,  hog  of  the  backwoods.  Chihun's 
your  mahout  for  ten  days.  And  now  bid  me 
good-bye,  beast  after  mine  own  heart.  Oh,  my 
lord,  my  king!  Jewel  of  all  created  elephants, 
lily  of  the  herd,  preserve  your  honoured  health ; 
be  virtuous.    Adieu  I  " 

Moti  Guj  lapped  his  trunk  round  Deesa  and 
swung  him  into  the  air  twice.  That  was  his  way 
of  bidding  the  man  good-bye. 

"  He'll  work  now,"  said  Deesa  to  the  planter. 
"  Have  I  leave  to  go " 

The  planter  nodded,  and  Deesa  dived  into  the 
woods.    Moti  Guj  went  back  to  haul  stumps. 

Chihun  was  very  kind  to  him,  but  he  felt  un- 
happy and  forlorn  notwithstanding.  Chihun  gave 
him  balls  of  spices,  and  tickled  him  under  the  chin, 
and  Chihun's  little  baby  cooed  to  him  after  work 
was  over,  and  Chihun's  wife  called  him  a  darling; 
but  Moti  Guj  was  a  bachelor  by  instinct,  as  Deesa 
was.  He  did  not  understand  the  domestic  emo- 
tions. He  wanted  the  light  of  his  universe  back 
again  —  the  drink  and  the  drunken  slumber,  the 
savage  beatings  and  the  savage  caresses. 

None  the  less  he  worked  well,  and  the  planter 

95 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


wondered.  Deesa  had  vagabonded  along  the  roads 
till  he  met  a  marriage  procession  of  his  own  caste 
and,  drinking,  dancing,  and  tippling,  had  drifted 
past  all  knowledge  of  the  lapse  of  time. 

The  morning  of  the  eleventh  day  dawned,  and 
there  returned  no  Deesa.  Moti  Guj  was  loosed 
from  his  ropes  for  the  daily  stint.  He  swung 
clear,  looked  round,  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and 
began  to  walk  away,  as  one  having  business  else- 
where. 

"  Hi  I  ho !  Come  back,  you,"  shouted  Chihun. 
"  Come  back,  and  put  me  on  your  neck,  Misborn 
Mountain.  Return,  Splendour  of  the  Hillsides. 
Adornment  of  all  India,  heave  to,  or  I'll  bang 
every  toe  off  your  fat  forefoot !  " 

Moti  Guj  gurgled  gently,  but  did  not  obey. 
Chihun  ran  after  him  with  a  rope  and  caught  him 
up.  Moti  Guj  put  his  ears  forward,  and  Chihun 
knew  what  that  meant,  though  he  tried  to  carry  it 
off  with  high  words. 

"None  of  your  nonsense  with  me,"  said  he. 
"  To  your  pickets.  Devil-son." 

"  Hrrump  I "  said  Moti  Guj,  and  that  was  all  — 
that  and  the  forebent  ears. 

Moti  Guj  put  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  chewed 
a  branch  for  a  toothpick,  and  strolled  about  the 
clearing,  making  jest  of  the  other  elephants,  who 
had  just  set  to  work. 

Chihun  reported  the  state  of  affairs  to  the  planter, 

96 


MOTI  GUJ  — MUTINEER 


who  came  out  with  a  dog-whip  and  cracked  it  fu- 
riously. Moti  Guj  paid  the  white  man  the  com- 
pliment of  charging  him  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
across  the  clearing  and  "Hrrumping"  him  into 
the  verandah.  Then  he  stood  outside  the  house 
chuckling  to  himself,  and  shaking  all  over  with 
the  fun  of  it,  as  an  elephant  will. 

"We'll  thrash  him,"  said  the  planter.  "He 
shall  have  the  finest  thrashing  that  ever  elephant 
received.  Give  Kala  Nag  and  Nazim  twelve 
foot  of  chain  apiece,  and  tell  them  to  lay  on 
twenty  blows." 

Kala  Nag  —  which  means  Black  Snake  —  and 
Nazim  were  two  of  the  biggest  elephants  in  the 
lines,  and  one  of  their  duties  was  to  administer  the 
graver  punishments,  since  no  man  can  beat  an  ele- 
phant properly. 

They  took  the  whipping-chains  and  rattled  them 
in  their  trunks  as  they  sidled  up  to  Moti  Guj,  meaning 
to  hustle  him  between  them.  Moti  Guj  had  never, 
in  all  his  life  of  thirty-nine  years,  been  whipped, 
and  he  did  not  intend  to  open  new  experiences. 
So  he  waited,  weaving  his  head  from  right  to  left, 
and  measuring  the  precise  spot  in  Kala  Nag's  fat 
side  where  a  blunt  tusk  would  sink  deepest.  Kala 
Nag  had  no  tusks ;  the  chain  was  his  badge  of  au- 
thority; but  he  judged  it  good  to  swing  wide  of 
Moti  Guj  at  the  last  minute,  and  seem  to  appear 
as  if  he  had  brought  out  the  chain  for  amusement. 

97 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


Nazim  turned  round  and  went  home  early.  He 
did  not  feel  fighting-fit  that  morning,  and  so 
Moti  Guj  was  left  standing  alone  with  his  ears 
cocked. 

That  decided  the  planter  to  argue  no  more,  and 
Moti  Guj  rolled  back  to  his  inspection  of  the 
clearing.  An  elephant  who  will  not  work,  and  is 
not  tied  up,  is  not  quite  so  manageable  as  an 
eighty-one  ton  gun  loose  in  a  heavy  sea-way.  He 
slapped  old  friends  on  the  back  and  asked  them 
if  the  stumps  were  coming  away  easily ;  he  talked 
nonsense  concerning  labour  and  the  inalienable 
rights  of  elephants  to  a  long  "nooning";  and, 
wandering  to  and  fro,  thoroughly  demoralized  the 
garden  till  sundown,  when  he  returned  to  his 
pickets  for  food. 

"  If  you  won't  work  you  sha'n't  eat,"  said  Chi- 
hun  angrily.  "  You're  a  wild  elephant,  and  no 
educated  animal  at  all.    Go  back  to  your  jungle." 

Chihun's  little  brown  baby,  rolling  on  the  floor 
of  the  hut,  stretched  its  fat  arms  to  the  huge  sha^ 
dow  in  the  doorway.  Moti  Guj  knew  well  that 
it  was  the  dearest  thing  on  earth  to  Chihun.  He 
swung  out  his  trunk  with  a  fascinating  crook  at 
the  end,  and  the  brown  baby  threw  itself  shouting 
upon  it.  Moti  Guj  made  fast  and  pulled  up  till 
the  brown  baby  was  crowing  in  the  air  twelve 
feet  above  his  father's  head. 

"  Great  Chief! "  said  Chihun.  "Flour  cakes  of 
98 


MOTI  GUJ  — MUTINEER 


the  best,  twelve  in  number,  two  feet  across,  and 
soaked  in  rum  shall  be  yours  on  the  instant,  and 
two  hundred  pounds'  weight  of  fresh-cut  young 
sugar-cane  therewith.  Deign  only  to  put  down 
safely  that  insignificant  brat  who  is  my  heart  and 
my  life  to  me." 

Moti  Guj  tucked  the  brown  baby  comfortably 
between  his  forefeet,  that  could  have  knocked  into 
toothpicks  all  Chihun's  hut,  and  waited  for  his  food. 
He  ate  it,  and  the  brown  baby  crawled  away.  Moti 
Guj  dozed,  and  thought  of  Deesa.  One  of  many 
mysteries  connected  with  the  elephant  is  that  his 
huge  body  needs  less  sleep  than  anything  else  that 
lives.  Four  or  five  hours  in  the  night  suffice  —  two 
just  before  midnight,  lying  down  on  one  side;  two 
just  after  one  o'clock,  lying  down  on  the  other. 
The  rest  of  the  silent  hours  are  filled  with  eating 
and  fidgeting  and  long  grumbling  soliloquies. 

At  midnight,  therefore,  Moti  Guj  strode  out  of 
his  pickets,  for  a  thought  had  come  to  him  that 
Deesa  might  be  lying  drunk  somewhere  in  the  dark 
forest  with  none  to  look  after  him.  So  all  that  night 
he  chased  through  the  undergrowth,  blowing  and 
trumpeting  and  shaking  his  ears.  He  went  down 
to  the  river  and  blared  across  the  shallows  where 
Deesa  used  to  wash  him,  but  there  was  no  answer. 
He  could  not  find  Deesa,  but  he  disturbed  all  the 
elephants  in  the  lines,  and  nearly  frightened  to 
death  some  gypsies  in  the  woods. 

99 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


At  dawn  Deesa  returned  to  the  plantation.  He 
had  been  very  drunk  indeed,  and  he  expected  to 
fall  into  trouble  for  outstaying  his  leave.  He 
drew  a  long  breath  when  he  saw  that  the  bunga- 
low and  the  plantation  were  still  uninjured;  for 
he  knew  something  of  Moti  Guj's  temper;  and 
reported  himself  with  many  lies  and  salaams. 
Moti  Guj  had  gone  to  his  pickets  for  breakfast. 
His  night  exercise  had  made  him  hungry. 

"  Call  up  your  beast,"  said  the  planter,  and  Deesa 
shouted  in  the  mysterious  elephant-language,  that 
some  mahouts  believe  came  from  China  at  the  birth 
of  the  world,  when  elephants  and  not  men  were 
masters.  Moti  Guj  heard  and  came.  Elephants 
do  not  gallop.  They  move  from  spots  at  varying 
rates  of  speed.  If  an  elephant  wished  to  catch  an 
express  train  he  could  not  gallop,  but  he  could  catch 
the  train.  Thus  Moti  Guj  was  at  the  planter's  door 
almost  before  Chihun  noticed  that  he  had  left  his 
pickets.  He  fell  into  Deesa's  arms  trumpeting 
with  joy,  and  the  man  and  beast  wept  and  slob- 
bered over  each  other,  and  handled  each  other  from 
head  to  heel  to  see  that  no  harm  had  befallen. 

"  Now  we  will  get  to  work,"  said  Deesa.  "  Lift 
me  up,  my  son  and  my  joy." 

Moti  Guj  swung  him  up,  and  the  two  went  to 
the  coffee-clearing  to  look  for  irksome  stumps. 

The  planter  was  too  astonished  to  be  very  angry. 


lOO 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


Before  my  Spring  I  garnered  Autumn's  gain. 
Out  of  her  time  my  field  was  white  with  grain. 

The  year  gave  up  her  secrets  to  my  woe. 
Forced  and  deflowered  each  sick  season  lay. 
In  mystery  of  increase  and  decay  ; 
I  saw  the  sunset  ere  men  saw  the  day. 

Who  am  too  wise  in  that  I  should  not  know. 

Bitter  Waters, 

I 

"  But  if  it  be  a  girl  " 

"  Lord  of  my  life,  it  cannot  be.  I  have  prayed 
for  so  many  nights,  and  sent  gifts  to  Sheikh  BadPs 
shrine  so  often,  that  I  know  God  will  give  us  a 
son  — a  man-child  that  shall  grow  into  a  man. 
Think  of  this  and  be  glad.  My  mother  shall  be 
his  mother  till  I  can  take  him  again,  and  the  mul- 
lah of  the  Pattan  mosque  shall  cast  his  nativity— 
God  send  he  be  born  in  an  auspicious  hour! — • 
and  then,  and  then  thou  wilt  never  weary  of  me, 
thy  slave." 

"  Since  when  hast  thou  been  a  slave,  my 
queen  ?  " 

"Since  the  beginning  —  till  this  mercy  came  to 

101 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


me.  How  could  I  be  sure  of  thy  love  when  I 
knew  that  I  had  been  bought  with  silver  ^  " 

"Nay,  that  was  the  dowry.  I  paid  it  to  thy 
mother." 

"  And  she  has  buried  it,  and  sits  upon  it  all  day 
long  like  a  hen.  What  talk  is  yours  of  dower ! 
I  was  bought  as  though  I  had  been  a  Lucknow 
dancing-girl  instead  of  a  child." 

"  Art  thou  sorry  for  the  sale  ?  " 

"  I  have  sorrowed ;  but  to-day  I  am  glad.  Thou 
wilt  never  cease  to  love  me  now  ?  —  answer,  my 
king." 

"  Never  —  never.  No." 

"  Not  even  though  the  mem-log — the  white  wom- 
en of  thy  own  blood  —  love  thee  *?  And  remem- 
ber, I  have  watched  them  driving  in  the  evening; 
they  are  very  fair." 

"  I  have  seen  fire-balloons  by  the  hundred.  I 
have  seen  the  moon,  and  —  then  I  saw  no  more 
fire-balloons." 

Ameera  clapped  her  hands  and  laughed.  "  Very 
good  talk,"  she  said.  Then  with  an  assumption 
of  great  stateliness,  "  It  is  enough.  Thou  hast  my 
permission  to  depart, —  if  thou  wilt." 

The  man  did  not  move.  He  was  sitting  on  a 
low  red-lacquered  couch  in  a  room  furnished  only 
with  a  blue  and  white  floor-cloth,  some  rugs,  and 
a  very  complete  collection  of  native  cushions.  At 
his  feet  sat  a  woman  of  sixteen,  and  she  was  all 

102 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


but  all  the  world  in  his  eyes.  By  every  rule  and 
law  she  should  have  been  otherwise,  for  he  was  an 
Englishman,  and  she  a  Mussulman's  daughter 
bought  two  years  before  from  her  mother,  who, 
being  left  without  money,  would  have  sold  Ameera 
shrieking  to  the  Prince  of  Darkness  if  the  price 
had  been  sufficient. 

It  was  a  contract  entered  into  with  a  light  heart ; 
but  even  before  the  girl  had  reached  her  bloom 
she  came  to  fill  the  greater  portion  of  John 
Holden's  life.  For  her,  and  the  withered  hag  her 
mother,  he  had  taken  a  little  house  overlooking 
the  great  red-walled  city,  and  found, —  when 
the  marigolds  had  sprung  up  by  the  well  in  the 
courtyard  and  Ameera  had  established  herself  ac- 
cording to  her  own  ideas  of  comfort,  and  her 
mother  had  ceased  grumbling  at  the  inadequacy 
of  the  cooking-places,  the  distance  from  the  daily 
market,  and  at  matters  of  housekeeping  in  general, 
—  that  the  house  was  to  him  his  home.  Any 
one  could  enter  his  bachelor's  bungalow  by  day  or 
night,  and  the  life  that  he  led  there  was  an  unlovely 
one.  In  the  house  in  the  city  his  feet  only  could 
pass  beyond  the  outer  courtyard  to  the  women's 
rooms ;  and  when  the  big  wooden  gate  was  bolted 
behind  him  he  was  king  in  his  own  territory,  with 
Ameera  for  queen.  And  there  was  going  to  be 
added  to  this  kingdom  a  third  person  whose  arrival 
Holden  felt  inclined  to  resent.    It  interfered  with 

103 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


his  perfect  happiness.  It  disarranged  the  orderly 
peace  of  the  house  that  was  his  own.  But  Ameera 
was  wild  with  delight  at  the  thought  of  it,  and  her 
mother  not  less  so.  The  love  of  a  man,  and  par- 
ticularly a  white  man,  was  at  the  best  an  incon- 
stant affair,  but  it  might,  both  women  argued,  be 
held  fast  by  a  baby's  hands.  "  And  then,"  Ameera 
would  always  say,  "  then  he  will  never  care  for  the 
white  mem-log,    I  hate  them  all  —  I  hate  them  all." 

"  He  will  go  back  to  his  own  people  in  time," 
said  the  mother ;  "  but  by  the  blessing  of  God  that 
time  is  yet  afar  off." 

Holden  sat  silent  on  the  couch  thinking  of  the 
future,  and  his  thoughts  were  not  pleasant.  The 
drawbacks  of  a  double  life  are  manifold.  The 
Government,  with  singular  care,  had  ordered  him 
out  of  the  station  for  a  fortnight  on  special  duty  in 
the  place  of  a  man  who  was  watching  by  the  bed- 
side of  a  sick  wife.  The  verbal  notification  of  the 
transfer  had  been  edged  by  a  cheerful  remark  that 
Holden  ought  to  think  himself  lucky  in  being  a 
bachelor  and  a  free  man.  He  came  to  break  the 
news  to  Ameera. 

"  It  is  not  good,"  she  said  slowly,  "  but  it  is  not 
all  bad.  There  is  my  mother  here,  and  no  harm  will 
come  to  me  —  unless  indeed  I  die  of  pure  joy. 
Go  thou  to  thy  work  and  think  no  troublesome 
thoughts.  When  the  days  are  done  I  believe  .  .  . 
nay,  I  am  sure.    And  —  and  then  I  shall  lay  him 

104 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


in  thy  arms,  and  thou  wilt  love  me  for  ever.  The 
train  goes  to-night,  at  midnight  is  it  not*?  Go 
now,  and  do  not  let  thy  heart  be  heavy  by  cause 
of  me.  But  thou  wilt  not  delay  in  returning*? 
Thou  wilt  not  stay  on  the  road  to  talk  to  the  bold 
white  mem-log.  Come  back  to  me  swiftly,  my 
life." 

As  he  left  the  courtyard  to  reach  his  horse  that 
was  tethered  to  the  gate-post,  Holden  spoke  to 
the  white-haired  old  watchman  who  guarded  the 
house,  and  bade  him  under  certain  contingencies 
despatch  the  filled-up  telegraph-form  that  Holden 
gave  him.  It  was  all  that  could  be  done,  and 
with  the  sensations  of  a  man  who  has  attended  his 
own  funeral  Holden  went  away  by  the  night  mail 
to  his  exile.  Every  hour  of  the  day  he  dreaded 
the  arrival  of  the  telegram,  and  every  hour  of  the 
night  he  pictured  to  himself  the  death  of  Ameera. 
In  consequence  his  work  for  the  State  was  not  of 
first-rate  quality,  nor  was  his  temper  towards  his 
colleagues  of  the  most  amiable.  The  fortnight 
ended  without  a  sign  from  his  home,  and,  torn  to 
pieces  by  his  anxieties,  Holden  returned  to  be 
swallowed  up  for  two  precious  hours  by  a  dinner 
at  the  club,  wherein  he  heard,  as  a  man  hears  in  a 
swoon,  voices  telling  him  how  execrably  he  had 
performed  the  other  man's  duties,  and  how  he  had 
endeared  himself  to  all  his  associates.  Then  he 
fled  on  horseback  through  the  night  with  his  heart 

105 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


in  his  mouth.  There  was  no  answer  at  first  to  his 
blows  on  the  gate,  and  he  had  just  wheeled  his 
horse  round  to  kick  it  in  when  Pir  Khan  appeared 
with  a  lantern  and  held  his  stirrup. 

"  Has  aught  occurred   "  said  Holden. 

"  The  news  does  not  come  from  my  mouth, 

Protector  of  the  Poor,  but  "    He  held  out 

his  shaking  hand  as  befitted  the  bearer  of  good 
news  who  is  entitled  to  a  reward. 

Holden  hurried  through  the  courtyard.  A  light 
burned  in  the  upper  room.  His  horse  neighed  in 
the  gateway,  and  he  heard  a  shrill  little  wail  that 
sent  all  the  blood  into  the  apple  of  his  throat.  It 
was  a  new  voice,  but  it  did  not  prove  that  Ameera 
was  alive. 

"  Who  is  there  "  he  called  up  the  narrow 
brick  staircase. 

There  was  a  cry  of  delight  from  Ameera,  and 
then  the  voice  of  the  mother,  tremulous  with  old 
age  and  pride  — "  We  be  two  women  and  —  the — 
man  —  thy  —  son." 

On  the  threshold  of  the  room  Holden  stepped 
on  a  naked  dagger,  that  was  laid  there  to  avert  ill- 
luck,  and  it  broke  at  the  hilt  under  his  impatient 
heel. 

"  God  is  great ! "  cooed  Ameera  in  the  half-light. 
*'  Thou  hast  taken  his  misfortunes  on  thy  head." 

"  Ay,  but  how  is  it  with  thee,  life  of  my  life 
Old  woman,  how  is  it  with  her  ?  " 

106 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


"  She  has  forgotten  her  sufferings  for  joy  that  the 
child  is  born.  There  is  no  harm ;  but  speak  softly," 
said  the  mother. 

"  It  only  needed  thy  presence  to  make  me  all 
well,"  said  Ameera.  "  My  king,  thou  hast  been 
very  long  away.  What  gifts  hast  thou  for  me  ? 
Ah,  ah !  It  is  I  that  bring  gifts  this  time.  Look, 
my  life,  look.  Was  there  ever  such  a  babe  ? 
Nay,  I  am  too  weak  even  to  clear  my  arm  from 
him." 

"  Rest  then,  and  do  not  talk.  I  am  here,  hachari 
[little  woman]." 

"  Well  said,  for  there  is  a  bond  and  a  heel-rope 
\^  'peecharee\  between  us  now  that  nothing  can  break. 
Look  —  canst  thou  see  in  this  light  %  He  is  with- 
out spot  or  blemish.  Never  was  such  a  man-child. 
Va  illah  1  he  shall  be  a  pundit  —  no,  a  trooper  of 
the  Queen.  And,  my  life,  dost  thou  love  me  as 
well  as  ever,  though  I  am  faint  and  sick  and  worn  ^ 
Answer  truly." 

"Yea.  I  love  as  I  have  loved,  with  all  my 
soul.    Lie  still,  pearl,  and  rest." 

"  Then  do  not  go.  Sit  by  my  side  here  —  so. 
Mother,  the  lord  of  this  house  needs  a  cushion. 
Bring  it."  There  was  an  almost  imperceptible 
movement  on  the  part  of  the  new  life  that  lay  in 
the  hollow  of  Ameera's  arm.  "  Aho  I "  she  said, 
her  voice  breaking  with  love.  "  The  babe  is  a 
champion  from  his  birth.    He  is  kicking  me  in 

107 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


the  side  with  mighty  kicks.  Was  there  ever  such 
a  babe?  And  he  is  ours  to  us — thine  and  mine. 
Put  thy  hand  on  his  head,  but  carefully,  for  he  is 
very  young,  and  men  are  unskilled  in  such  matters." 

Very  cautiously  Holden  touched  with  the  tips 
of  his  fingers  the  downy  head. 

"  He  is  of  the  faith,"  said  Ameera ;  "  for  lying 
here  in  the  night-watches  I  whispered  the  call  to 
prayer  and  the  profession  of  faith  into  his  ears. 
And  it  is  most  marvellous  that  he  was  born  upon 
a  Friday,  as  I  was  born.  Be  careful  of  him,  my 
life ;  but  he  can  almost  grip  with  his  hands." 

Holden  found  one  helpless  little  hand  that  closed 
feebly  on  his  finger.  And  the  clutch  ran  through 
his  body  till  it  settled  about  his  heart.  Till  then 
his  sole  thought  had  been  for  Ameera.  He  began 
to  realise  that  there  was  some  one  else  in  the  world, 
but  he  could  not  feel  that  it  was  a  veritable  son 
with  a  soul.  He  sat  down  to  think,  and  Ameera 
dozed  lightly. 

"  Get  hence,  Sahib,"  said  her  mother  under  her 
breath.  "  It  is  not  good  that  she  should  find  you 
here  on  waking.    She  must  be  still." 

"  I  go,"  said  Holden  submissively.  "  Here  be 
rupees.  See  that  my  haba  gets  fat  and  finds  all 
that  he  needs." 

The  chink  of  the  silver  roused  Ameera.  "I  am 
his  mother,  and  no  hireling,"  she  said  weakly. 
"  Shall  I  look  to  him  more  or  less  for  the  sake  of 

108 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


money  *?  Mother,  give  it  back.  I  have  born  my 
lord  a  son." 

The  deep  sleep  of  v^^eakness  came  upon  her 
almost  before  the  sentence  was  completed.  Holden 
went  down  to  the  courtyard  very  softly  with  his 
heart  at  ease.  Pir  Khan,  the  old  watchman,  was 
chuckling  with  delight.  "  This  house  is  now  com- 
plete," he  said,  and  without  further  comment  thrust 
into  Holden's  hands  the  hilt  of  a  sabre  worn  many 
years  ago  when  he,  Pir  Khan,  served  the  Queen 
in  the  police.  The  bleat  of  a  tethered  goat  came 
from  the  well-kerb. 

"  There  be  two,"  said  Pir  Khan,  "  two  goats  of 
the  best.  I  bought  them,  and  they  cost  much 
money;  and  since  there  is  no  birth-party  assembled 
their  flesh  will  be  all  mine.  Strike  craftily.  Sahib! 
'Tis  an  ill-balanced  sabre  at  the  best.  Wait  till 
they  raise  their  heads  from  cropping  the  marigolds." 

"And  why?  "  said  Holden,  bewildered. 

"  For  the  birth-sacrifice.  What  else  ?  Other- 
wise the  child  being  unguarded  from  fate  may  die. 
The  Protector  of  the  Poor  knows  the  fitting  words 
to  be  said." 

Holden  had  learned  them  once  with  little  thought 
that  he  would  ever  speak  them  in  earnest.  The 
touch  of  the  cold  sabre-hilt  in  his  palm  turned  sud- 
denly to  the  clinging  grip  of  the  child  up-stairs — 
the  child  that  was  his  own  son — and  a  dread  of 
loss  filled  him. 

109 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"Strike!"  said  Pir  Khan.  ''Never  life  came 
into  the  world  but  life  was  paid  for  it.  See,  the 
goats  have  raised  their  heads.  Now !  With  a 
drawing  cut ! " 

Hardly  knowing  what  he  did  Holden  cut  twice 
as  he  muttered  the  Mahomedan  prayer  that  runs  : 
"  Almighty  I  In  place  of  this  my  son  I  offer  life 
for  life,  blood  for  blood,  head  for  head,  bone  for 
bone,  hair  for  hair,  skin  for  skin."  The  waiting 
horse  snorted  and  bounded  in  his  pickets  at  the 
smell  of  the  raw  blood  that  spurted  over  Holden's 
riding-boots. 

"  Well  smitten ! "  said  Pir  Khan,  wiping  the 
sabre.  "  A  swordsman  was  lost  in  thee.  Go  with 
a  light  heart.  Heaven-born.  I  am  thy  servant, 
and  the  servant  of  thy  son.  May  the  Presence 
live  a  thousand  years  and  .  .  .  the  flesh  of  the 
goats  is  all  mine?"  Pir  Khan  drew  back  richer 
by  a  month's  pay.  Holden  swung  himself  into 
the  saddle  and  rode  off  through  the  low-hanging 
wood-smoke  of  the  evening.  He  was  full  of  riot- 
ous exultation,  alternating  with  a  vast  vague  ten- 
derness directed  towards  no  particular  object,  that 
made  him  choke  as  he  bent  over  the  neck  of  his 
uneasy  horse.  "  I  never  felt  like  this  in  my  life," 
he  thought.  "  I'll  go  to  the  club  and  pull  myself 
together." 

A  game  of  pool  was  beginning,  and  the  room 
was  full  of  men.    Holden  entered,  eager  to  get  to 

no 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


the  light  and  the  company  of  his  fellows,  singing 
at  the  top  of  his  voice  — 

In  Baltimore  a-walking,  a  lady  I  did  meet! 

"  Did  you  ?  "  said  the  club-secretary  from  his 
corner.  "  Did  she  happen  to  tell  you  that  your 
boots  were  wringing  wet*?  Great  goodness,  man, 
it's  blood  I " 

"  Bosh !  "  said  Holden,  picking  his  cue  from  the 
rack.  "  May  I  cut  in  ^  It's  dew.  I've  been  rid- 
ing through  high  crops.  My  faith  !  my  boots  are 
in  a  mess  though ! 

"And  if  it  be  a  girl  she  shall  wear  a  wedding-ring. 
And  if  it  be  a  boy  he  shall  fight  for  his  king. 
With  his  dirk,  and  his  cap,  and  his  little  jacket  blue. 
He  shall  walk  the  quarter-deck — '* 

"  Yellow  on  blue  —  green  next  player,"  said  the 
marker  monotonously. 

" '  He  shall  walk  the  quarter-deck,' —  Am  I 
green,  marker  ?  '  He  shall  walk  the  quarter- 
deck,'—  eh!  that's  a  bad  shot, — 'As  his  daddy 
used  to  do ! '  '* 

"  I  don't  see  that  you  have  anything  to  crow 
about,"  said  a  zealous  junior  civilian  acidly.  "  The 
Government  is  not  exactly  pleased  with  your  work 
when  you  relieved  Sanders." 

"Does  that  mean  a  wigging  from  headquarters*?' 
Ill 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


said  Holden  with  an  abstracted  smile.  "  I  think 
I  can  stand  it." 

The  talk  beat  up  round  the  ever-fresh  subject 
of  each  man's  work,  and  steadied  Holden  till  it 
was  time  to  go  to  his  dark  empty  bungalow,  where 
his  butler  received  him  as  one  who  knew  all  his 
affairs.  Holden  remained  awake  for  the  greater 
part  of  the  night,  and  his  dreams  were  pleasant 
ones. 

II 

"  How  old  is  he  now  *?  " 

"  Ta  illah !  What  a  man's  question !  He  is 
all  but  six  weeks  old ;  and  on  this  night  I  go  up 
to  the  housetop  with  thee,  my  life,  to  count  the 
stars.  For  that  is  auspicious.  And  he  was  born 
on  a  Friday  under  the  sign  of  the  Sun,  and  it  has 
been  told  to  me  that  he  will  outlive  us  both  and 
get  wealth.  Can  we  wish  for  aught  better,  be- 
loved?" 

"  There  is  nothing  better.  Let  us  go  up  to  the 
roof,  and  thou  shalt  count  the  stars  —  but  a  few 
only,  for  the  sky  is  heavy  with  cloud." 

"  The  winter  rains  are  late,  and  maybe  they 
come  out  of  season.  Come,  before  all  the  stars 
are  hid.    I  have  put  on  my  richest  jewels." 

"  Thou  hast  forgotten  the  best  of  all." 

Ours.    He  comes  also.    He  has  never 
yet  seen  the  skies." 

112 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


Ameera  climbed  the  narrow  staircase  that  led 
to  the  flat  roof.  The  child,  placid  and  unwink- 
ing, lay  in  the  hollow  of  her  right  arm,  gorgeous 
in  silver-fringed  muslin  with  a  small  skull-cap  on 
his  head.  Ameera  wore  all  that  she  valued  most. 
The  diamond  nose-stud  that  takes  the  place  of 
the  Western  patch  in  drawing  attention  to  the 
curve  of  the  nostril,  the  gold  ornament  in  the  cen- 
tre of  the  forehead  studded  with  tallow-drop  em- 
eralds and  flawed  rubies,  the  heavy  circlet  of 
beaten  gold  that  was  fastened  round  her  neck  by 
the  softness  of  the  pure  metal,  and  the  chinking 
curb-patterned  silver  anklets  hanging  low  over 
the  rosy  ankle-bone.  She  was  dressed  in  jade- 
green  muslin  as  befitted  a  daughter  of  the  Faith, 
and  from  shoulder  to  elbow  and  elbow  to  wrist  ran 
bracelets  of  silver  tied  with  floss  silk,  frail  glass 
bangles  slipped  over  the  wrist  in  proof  of  the  slen- 
derness  of  the  hand,  and  certain  heavy  gold  brace- 
lets that  had  no  part  in  her  country's  ornaments 
but,  since  they  were  Holden's  gift  and  fastened 
with  a  cunning  European  snap,  delighted  her 
immensely. 

They  sat  down  by  the  low  white  parapet  of  the 
roof,  overlooking  the  city  and  its  lights. 

"  They  are  happy  down  there,"  said  Ameera. 
"  But  I  do  not  think  that  they  are  as  happy  as 
we.  Nor  do  I  think  the  white  mem-log  are  as 
happy.    And  thou  ^  " 

113 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"  I  know  they  are  not." 

"  How  dost  thou  know '?  " 

"  They  give  their  children  over  to  the  nurses.** 

"  I  have  never  seen  that,"  said  Ameera  with  a 
sigh,  "nor  do  I  wish  to  see.  jihi!  " — she  dropped 
her  head  on  Holden's  shoulder — I  have  counted 
forty  stars,  and  I  am  tired.  Look  at  the  child, 
love  of  my  life,  he  is  counting  too." 

The  baby  was  staring  with  round  eyes  at  the 
dark  of  the  heavens.  Ameera  placed  him  in 
Holden's  arms,  and  he  lay  there  without  a  cry. 

"  What  shall  we  call  him  among  ourselves  ?  '* 
she  said.  "Look!  Art  thou  ever  tired  of  looking? 
He  carries  thy  very  eyes.    But  the  mouth  " 

"  Is  thine,  most  dear.  Who  should  know  bet- 
ter than  I  ?  " 

"  'Tis  such  a  feeble  mouth.  Oh,  so  small  I 
And  yet  it  holds  my  heart  between  its  lips.  Give 
him  to  me  now.    He  has  been  too  long  away." 

"Nay,  let  him  lie;  he  has  not  yet  begun  to 
cry." 

"  When  he  cries  thou  wilt  give  him  back  —  eh  ? 
What  a  man  of  mankind  thou  art  I  If  he  cried  he 
were  only  the  dearer  to  me.  But,  my  life,  what 
little  name  shall  we  give  him?" 

The  small  body  lay  close  to  Holden's  heart. 
It  was  utterly  helpless  and  very  soft.  He  scarcely 
dared  to  breathe  for  fear  of  crushing  it.  The 
caged  green  parrot  that  is  regarded  as  a  sort  of 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


guardian-spirit  in  most  native  households  moved 
on  its  perch  and  fluttered  a  drowsy  wing. 

"  There  is  the  answer/'  said  Holden.  "  Mian 
Mittu  has  spoken.  He  shall  be  the  parrot.  When 
he  is  ready  he  will  talk  mightily  and  run  about. 
Mian  Mittu  is  the  parrot  in  thy  —  in  the  Mussul- 
man tongue,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  Why  put  me  so  far  off*?  "  said  Ameera  fret- 
fully. "  Let  it  be  like  unto  some  English  name 
—  but  not  wholly.    For  he  is  mine." 

"  Then  call  him  Tota,  for  that  is  likest  English." 

"Ay,  Tota,  and  that  is  still  the  parrot.  Forgive 
me,  my  lord,  for  a  minute  ago,  but  in  truth  he  is 
too  little  to  wear  all  the  weight  of  Mian  Mittu 
for  name.  He  shall  be  Tota  —  our  Tota  to  us. 
Hearest  thou,  O  small  one?  Littlest,  thou  art 
Tota."  She  touched  the  child's  cheek,  and  he 
waking  wailed,  and  it  was  necessary  to  return  him 
to  his  mother,  who  soothed  him  with  the  wonder- 
ful rhyme  of  Are  koko^  J  are  koko  I  which  says  : 

Oh  crow!    Go  crow!    Baby's  sleeping  sound. 

And  the  wild  plums  grow  in  the  jungle,  only  a  penny  a  pound. 

Only  a  penny  a  pound,  baba,  only  a  penny  a  pound. 

Reassured  many  times  as  to  the  price  of  those 
plums,  Tota  cuddled  himself  down  to  sleep.  The 
two  sleek,  white  well-bullocks  in  the  courtyard 
were  steadily  chewing  the  cud  of  their  evening 
meal ;  old  Pir  Khan  squatted  at  the  head  of  Hol- 

1^5 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


den's  horse,  his  police  sabre  across  his  knees,  pull- 
ing drowsily  at  a  big  water-pipe  that  croaked  like 
a  bull-frog  in  a  pond.  Ameera's  mother  sat  spin- 
ning in  the  lower  verandah,  and  the  wooden  gate 
was  shut  and  barred.  The  music  of  a  marriage- 
procession  came  to  the  roof  above  the  gentle  hum 
of  the  city,  and  a  string  of  flying-foxes  crossed  the 
face  of  the  low  moon. 

"  I  have  prayed,"  said  Ameera  after  a  long  pause, 
"  I  have  prayed  for  two  things.  First,  that  I  may 
die  in  thy  stead  if  thy  death  is  demanded,  and  in 
the  second  that  I  may  die  in  the  place  of  the  child. 
I  have  prayed  to  the  Prophet  and  to  Beebee  Mir- 
iam [the  Virgin  Mary].  Thinkest  thou  either  will 
hear  ?  " 

"  From  thy  lips  who  would  not  hear  the  lightest 
word?" 

"  I  asked  for  straight  talk,  and  thou  hast  given 
me  sweet  talk.    Will  my  prayers  be  heard  " 

"  How  can  I  say  ?    God  is  very  good." 

"  Of  that  I  am  not  sure.  Listen  now.  When 
I  die,  or  the  child  dies,  what  is  thy  fate  ?  Living, 
thou  wilt  return  to  the  bold  white  mem-log^  for  kind 
calls  to  kind." 

"  Not  always." 

"  With  a  woman,  no ;  with  a  man  it  is  other- 
wise. Thou  wilt  in  this  life,  later  on,  go  back  to 
thine  own  folk.  That  I  could  almost  endure,  for 
I  should  be  dead.    But  in  thy  very  death  thou 

116 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


wilt  be  taken  away  to  a  strange  place  and  a  para- 
dise that  I  do  not  know." 
"  Will  it  be  paradise " 

"  Surely,  for  who  would  harm  thee  But  we 
two  —  I  and  the  child  —  shall  be  elsewhere,  and 
we  cannot  come  to  thee,  nor  canst  thou  come  to 
us.  In  the  old  days,  before  the  child  was  born,  I 
did  not  think  of  these  things ;  but  now  I  think  of 
them  always.    It  is  very  hard  talk." 

"  It  will  fall  as  it  will  fall.  To-morrow  we  do 
not  know,  but  to-day  and  love  we  know  well. 
Surely  we  are  happy  now." 

"  So  happy  that  it  were  well  to  make  our  happi- 
ness assured.  And  thy  Beebee  Miriam  should 
listen  to  me ;  for  she  is  also  a  woman.  But  then 
she  would  envy  me !  It  is  not  seemly  for  men  to 
worship  a  woman." 

Holden  laughed  aloud  at  Ameera's  little  spasm 
of  jealousy. 

"  Is  it  not  seemly  ?  Why  didst  thou  not  turn 
me  from  worship  of  thee,  then " 

"  Thou  a  worshipper !  And  of  me  My  king, 
for  all  thy  sweet  words,  well  I  know  that  I  am  thy 
servant  and  thy  slave,  and  the  dust  under  thy  feet. 
And  I  would  not  have  it  otherwise.    See !  " 

Before  Holden  could  prevent  her  she  stooped 
forward  and  touched  his  feet;  recovering  herself 
with  a  little  laugh  she  hugged  Tota  closer  to  her 
bosom.    Then,  almost  savagely  

117 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"  Is  it  true  that  the  bold  white  mem-log  live  for 
three  times  the  length  of  my  life  ?  Is  it  true  that 
they  make  their  marriages  not  before  they  are  old 
women?  " 

"They  marry  as  do  others  —  when  they  are 
women." 

"That  I  know,  but  they  wed  when  they  are 
twenty-five.    Is  that  true  ?  " 
"  That  is  true." 

"  illahl  At  twenty-five!  Who  would  of 
his  own  will  take  a  wife  even  of  eighteen?  She 
is  a  woman  —  aging  every  hour.    Twenty-five  I 

I  shall  be  an  old  woman  at  that  age,  and  

Those  mem-log  remain  young  for  ever.  How  I 
hate  them  ! " 

"  What  have  they  to  do  with  us  ?  '* 

"  I  cannot  tell.  I  know  only  that  there  may 
now  be  alive  on  this  earth  a  woman  ten  years 
older  than  I  who  may  come  to  thee  and  take  thy 
love  ten  years  after  I  am  an  old  woman,  gray- 
headed,  and  the  nurse  of  Tota's  son.  That  is  un- 
just and  evil.    They  should  die  too." 

"Now,  for  all  thy  years  thou  art  a  child, 
and  shalt  be  picked  up  and  carried  down  the 
staircase." 

"  Tota !  Have  a  care  for  Tota,  my  lord !  Thou 
at  least  art  as  foolish  as  any  babe ! "  Ameera 
tucked  Tota  out  of  harm's  way  in  the  hollow  of 
her  neck,  and  was  carried  downstairs  laughing  in 

118 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


Holden's  arms,  while  Tota  opened  his  eyes  and 
smiled  after  the  manner  of  the  lesser  angels. 

He  was  a  silent  infant,  and,  almost  before  Holden 
could  realise  that  he  was  in  the  world,  developed 
into  a  small  gold-coloured  little  god  and  unques- 
tioned despot  of  the  house  overlooking  the  city. 
Those  were  months  of  absolute  happiness  to  Hol- 
den and  Ameera  —  happiness  withdrawn  from  thevX^ 
world,  shut  in  behind  the  wooden  gate  that  Pir 
Khan  guarded.  By  day  Holden  did  his  work  with 
an  immense  pity  for  such  as  were  not  so  fortunate 
as  himself,  and  a  sympathy  for  small  children  that 
amazed  and  amused  many  mothers  at  the  little 
station-gatherings.  At  nightfall  he  returned  to 
Ameera, —  Ameera,  full  of  the  wondrous  doings 
of  Tota;  how  he  had  been  seen  to  clap  his  hands 
together  and  move  his  fingers  with  intention  and 
purpose  —  which  was  manifestly  a  miracle  —  how 
later,  he  had  of  his  own  initiative  crawled  out  of 
his  low  bedstead  on  to  the  floor  and  swayed  on  both 
feet  for  the  space  of  three  breaths. 

"  And  they  were  long  breaths,  for  my  heart  stood 
still  with  delight,"  said  Ameera. 

Then  Tota  took  the  beasts  into  his  councils  — 
the  well-bullocks,  the  little  gray  squirrels,  the  mon- 
goose that  lived  in  a  hole  near  the  well,  and  espe- 
cially Mian  Mittu,  the  parrot,  whose  tail  he  griev- 
ously pulled,  and  Mian  Mittu  screamed  till  Ameera 
and  Holden  arrived. 

119 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"  O  villain  !  Child  of  strength  I  This  to  thy 
brother  on  the  house-top!  "iohah^  tohahl  Fie! 
Fie !  But  I  know  a  charm  to  make  him  wise  as 
Suleiman  and  Aflatoun  [Solomon  and  Plato]. 
Now  look,"  said  Ameera.  She  drew  from  an  em- 
broidered bag  a  handful  of  almonds.  "  See  I  we 
count  seven.    In  the  name  of  God ! " 

She  placed  Mian  Mittu,  very  angry  and  rum- 
pled, on  the  top  of  his  cage,  and  seating  herself 
between  the  babe  and  the  bird  she  cracked  and 
peeled  an  almond  less  white  than  her  teeth.  "  This 
is  a  true  charm,  my  life,  and  do  not  laugh.  See ! 
I  give  the  parrot  one  half  and  Tota  the  other." 
Mian  Mittu  with  careful  beak  took  his  share  from 
between  Ameera's  lips,  and  she  kissed  the  other 
half  into  the  mouth  of  the  child,  who  ate  it  slowly 
with  wondering  eyes.  "  This  I  will  do  each  day 
of  seven,  and  without  doubt  he  who  is  ours  will 
be  a  bold  speaker  and  wise.  Eh,  Tota,  what  wilt 
thou  be  when  thou  art  a  man  and  I  am  gray-head- 
ed % "  Tota  tucked  his  fat  legs  into  adorable 
creases.  He  could  crawl,  but  he  was  not  going  to 
waste  the  spring  of  his  youth  in  idle  speech.  He 
wanted  Mian  Mittu's  tail  to  tweak. 

When  he  was  advanced  to  the  dignity  of  a  sil- 
ver belt  —  which,  with  a  magic  square  engraved 
on  silver  and  hung  round  his  neck,  made  up  the 
greater  part  of  his  clothing  —  he  staggered  on  a 
perilous  journey  down  the  garden  to  Pir  Khan 

120 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


and  proffered  him  all  his  jewels  in  exchange  for 
one  little  ride  on  Holden's  horse,  having  seen  his 
mother's  mother  chaffering  with  pedlars  in  the  ver- 
andah. Fir  Khan  wept  and  set  the  untried  feet 
on  his  own  gray  head  in  sign  of  fealty,  and  brought 
the  bold  adventurer  to  his  mother's  arms,  vowing 
that  Tota  would  be  a  leader  of  men  ere  his  beard 
was  grown. 

One  hot  evening,  while  he  sat  on  the  roof  be- 
tween his  father  and  mother  watching  the  never- 
ending  warfare  of  the  kites  that  the  city  boys  flew, 
he  demanded  a  kite  of  his  own  with  Fir  Khan  to 
fly  it,  because  he  had  a  fear  of  dealing  with  any- 
thing larger  than  himself,  and  when  Holden  called 
him  a  "spark,"  he  rose  to  his  feet  and  answered 
slowly  in  defence  of  his  new-found  individuality, 
"  Hum  'park  nahin  hai.  Hum  admi  hai  [I  am  no 
spark,  but  a  man]." 

The  protest  made  Holden  choke  and  devote 
himself  very  seriously  to  a  consideration  of  Tota's 
future.  He  need  hardly  have  taken  the  trouble. 
The  delight  of  that  life  was  too  perfect  to  endure. 
Therefore  it  was  taken  away  as  many  things  are 
taken  away  in  India  —  suddenly  and  without  warn- 
ing. The  little  lord  of  the  house,  as  Fir  Khan 
called  him,  grew  sorrowful  and  complained  of 
pains  who  had  never  known  the  meaning  of  pain. 
Ameera,  wild  with  terror,  watched  him  through 
the  night,  and  in  the  dawning  of  the  second  day 

121 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 

the  life  was  shaken  out  of  him  by  fever  —  the 
seasonal  autumn  fever.  It  seemed  altogether  im- 
possible that  he  could  die,  and  neither  Ameera 
nor  Holden  at  first  believed  the  evidence  of  the 
little  body  on  the  bedstead.  Then  Ameera  beat 
her  head  against  the  wall  and  would  have  flung 
herself  down  the  well  in  the  garden  had  Holden 
not  restrained  her  by  main  force. 

One  mercy  only  was  granted  to  Holden.  He 
rode  to  his  office  in  broad  daylight  and  found 
waiting  him  an  unusually  heavy  mail  that  de- 
manded concentrated  attention  and  hard  work. 
He  was  not,  however,  alive  to  this  kindness  of 
the  gods. 

Ill 

The  first  shock  of  a  bullet  is  no  more  than  a 
brisk  pinch.  The  wrecked  body  does  not  send  in 
its  protest  to  the  soul  till  ten  or  fifteen  seconds  later. 
Holden  realised  his  pain  slowly,  exactly  as  he  had 
realised  his  happiness,  and  with  the  same  imperi- 
ous necessity  for  hiding  all  trace  of  it.  In  the  be- 
ginning he  only  felt  that  there  had  been  a  loss, 
and  that  Ameera  needed  comforting,  where  she  sat 
with  her  head  on  her  knees  shivering  as  Mian 
Mittu  from  the  house-top  called  I'ota  I  ^ota!  T^ota! 
Later  all  his  world  and  the  daily  life  of  it  rose  up 
to  hurt  him.    It  was  an  outrage  that  any  one  of 

122 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


the  children  at  the  band-stand  in  the  evening  should 
be  aHve  and  clamorous,  when  his  own  child  lay- 
dead.  It  was  more  than  mere  pain  when  one  of 
them  touched  him,  and  stories  told  by  over-fond 
fathers  of  their  children's  latest  performances  cut 
him  to  the  quick.  He  could  not  declare  his  pain. 
He  had  neither  help,  comfort,  nor  sympathy ;  and 
Ameera  at  the  end  of  each  weary  day  would  lead 
him  through  the  hell  of  self-questioning  reproach 
which  is  reserved  for  those  who  have  lost  a  child, 
and  believe  that  with  a  little  — just  a  little — more 
care  it  might  have  been  saved. 

"  Perhaps,"  Ameera  would  say,  "  I  did  not  take 
sufficient  heed.  Did  I,  or  did  I  not  ?  The  sun 
on  the  roof  that  day  when  he  played  so  long  alone 
and  I  was  —  ahi!  braiding  my  hair  —  it  may  be 
that  the  sun  then  bred  the  fever.  If  I  had  warned 
him  from  the  sun  he  might  have  lived.  But,  oh 
my  life,  say  that  I  am  guiltless!  Thou  knowest 
that  I  loved  him  as  I  love  thee.  Say  that  there  is 
no  blame  on  me,  or  I  shall  die  —  I  shall  die !  " 

"  There  is  no  blame, —  before  God,  none.  It 
was  written  and  how  could  we  do  aught  to  save  *? 
What  has  been,  has  been.    Let  it  go,  beloved." 

"  He  was  all  my  heart  to  me.  How  can  I  let 
the  thought  go  when  my  arm  tells  me  every  night 
that  he  is  not  here  ?  Ahi!  Ahi  I  O  Tota,  come 
back  to  me  —  come  back  again,  and  let  us  be  all 
together  as  it  was  before  ! " 

123 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"  Peace,  peace !  For  thine  own  sake,  and  for 
mine  also,  if  thou  lovest  me  —  rest." 

"  By  this  I  know  thou  dost  not  care ;  and  how 
shouldst  thou  ?  The  white  men  have  hearts  of 
stone  and  souls  of  iron.  Oh,  that  I  had  married  a 
man  of  mine  own  people  —  though  he  beat  me  — 
and  had  never  eaten  the  bread  of  an  alien  I " 

"  Am  I  an  alien  —  mother  of  my  son  ?  " 

"  What  else  —  Sahib  ?  .  .  .  Oh,  forgive  me  — 
forgive !  The  death  has  driven  me  mad.  Thou 
art  the  life  of  my  heart,  and  the  light  of  my  eyes, 
and  the  breath  of  my  life,  and  —  and  I  have  put 
thee  from  me,  though  it  was  but  for  a  moment. 
If  thou  goest  away  to  whom  shall  I  look  for  help  ? 
Do  not  be  angry.  Indeed,  it  was  the  pain  that 
spoke  and  not  thy  slave." 

"  I  know,  I  know.  We  be  two  who  were  three. 
The  greater  need  therefore  that  we  should  be  one." 

They  were  sitting  on  the  roof  as  of  custom. 
The  night  was  a  warm  one  in  early  spring,  and 
sheet-lightning  was  dancing  on  the  horizon  to  a 
broken  tune  played  by  far-off  thunder.  Ameera 
settled  herself  in  Holden's  arms. 

"  The  dry  earth  is  lowing  like  a  cow  for  the  rain, 
and  I  —  I  am  afraid.  It  was  not  like  this  when 
we  counted  the  stars.  But  thou  lovest  me  as 
much  as  before,  though  a  bond  is  taken  away  ? 
Answer ! " 

"I  love  more  because  a  new  bond  has  come 
124 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


out  of  the  sorrow  that  we  have  eaten  together, 
and  that  thou  knowest." 

"Yea,  I  knew,"  said  Ameera  in  a  very  small 
whisper.  "  But  it  is  good  to  hear  thee  say  so,  my 
life,  who  art  so  strong  to  help.  I  will  be  a  child 
no  more,  but  a  woman  and  an  aid  to  thee.  Listen  I 
Give  me  my  sitar  and  I  will  sing  bravely." 

She  took  the  light  silver-studded  sitar  and  began 
a  song  of  the  great  hero  Rajah  Rasalu.  The  hand 
failed  on  the  strings,  the  tune  halted,  checked,  and 
at  a  low  note  turned  off  to  the  poor  little  nursery- 
rhyme  about  the  wicked  crow  — 

And  the  wild  plums  grow  in  the  jungle,  only  a  penny  a 
pound. 

Only  a  penny  a  pound,  baba  —  only  .  .  . 

Then  came  the  tears,  and  the  piteous  rebellion 
against  fate  till  she  slept,  moaning  a  little  in  her 
sleep,  with  the  right  arm  thrown  clear  of  the  body 
as  though  it  protected  something  that  was  not 
there.  It  was  after  this  night  that  life  became  a 
little  easier  for  Holden.  The  ever-present  pain  of 
loss  drove  him  into  his  work,  and  the  work  repaid 
him  by  filling  up  his  mind  for  nine  or  ten  hours  a 
day.  Ameera  sat  alone  in  the  house  and  brooded, 
but  grew  happier  when  she  understood  that  Holden 
was  more  at  ease,  according  to  the  custom  of 
women.  They  touched  happiness  again,  but  this 
time  with  caution. 

125 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"  It  was  because  we  loved  Tota  that  he  died. 
The  jealousy  of  God  was  upon  us,"  said  Ameera. 
"  I  have  hung  up  a  large  black  jar  before  our 
window  to  turn  the  evil  eye  from  us,  and  we 
must  make  no  protestations  of  delight,  but  go 
softly  underneath  the  stars,  lest  God  find  us  out. 
Is  that  not  good  talk,  worthless  one  ?  " 

She  had  shifted  the  accent  on  the  word  that 
means  "  beloved,"  in  proof  of  the  sincerity  of  her 
purpose.  But  the  kiss  that  followed  the  new 
christening  was  a  thing  that  any  deity  might  have 
envied.  They  went  about  henceforward  saying, 
"  It  is  naught,  it  is  naught; "  and  hoping  that  all 
the  Powers  heard. 

The  Powers  were  busy  on  other  things.  They 
had  allowed  thirty  million  people  four  years  of 
plenty  wherein  men  fed  well  and  the  crops  were 
certain,  and  the  birth-rate  rose  year  by  year;  the 
districts  reported  a  purely  agricultural  population 
varying  from  nine  hundred  to  two  thousand  to 
the  square  mile  of  the  overburdened  earth;  and 
the  Member  for  Lower  Tooting,  wandering  about 
India  in  pot-hat  and  frock-coat,  talked  largely  of 
the  benefits  of  British  rule  and  suggested  as  the 
one  thing  needful  the  establishment  of  a  duly 
qualified  electoral  system  and  a  general  bestowal 
of  the  franchise.  His  long-suffering  hosts  smiled 
and  made  him  welcome,  and  when  he  paused  to 
admire,  with  pretty  picked  words,  the  blossom  of 

126 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


the  blood-red  dbak-trct  that  had  flowered  untimely 
for  a  sign  of  what  was  coming,  they  smiled  more 
than  ever. 

It  was  the  Deputy  Commissioner  of  Kot-Kum- 
harsen,  staying  at  the  club  for  a  day,  who  lightly 
told  a  tale  that  made  Holden's  blood  run  cold  as 
he  overheard  the  end. 

"  He  won't  bother  any  one  any  more.  Never 
saw  a  man  so  astonished  in  my  life.  By  Jove,  I 
thought  he  meant  to  ask  a  question  in  the  House 
about  it.  Fellow-passenger  in  his  ship  —  dined 
next  him  —  bowled  over  by  cholera  and  died  in 
eighteen  hours.  You  needn't  laugh,  you  fellows. 
The  Member  for  Lower  Tooting  is  awfully- 
angry  about  it;  but  he's  more  scared.  I  think, 
he's  going  to  take  his  enlightened  self  out  of 
India." 

"  I'd  give  a  good  deal  if  he  were  knocked  over. 
It  might  keep  a  few  vestrymen  of  his  kidney  to 
their  own  parish.    But  what's  this  about  cholera 
It's  full  early  for  anything  of  that  kind,"  said 
the  warden  of  an  unprofitable  salt-lick. 

"  Don't  know,"  said  the  Deputy  Commissioner 
reflectively.  "  We've  got  locusts  with  us.  There's 
sporadic  cholera  all  along  the  north  —  at  least 
we're  calling  it  sporadic  for  decency's  sake.  The 
spring  crops  are  short  in  five  districts,  and  nobody 
seems  to  know  where  the  rains  are.  It's  nearly 
March  now.    I  don't  want  to  scare  anybody, 

127 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


but  it  seems  to  me  that  Nature's  going  to 
audit  her  accounts  with  a  big  red  pencil  this 
summer." 

"  Just  when  I  wanted  to  take  leave,  too  I "  said 
a  voice  across  the  room. 

"  There  won't  be  much  leave  this  year,  but 
there  ought  to  be  a  great  deal  of  promotion.  I've 
come  in  to  persuade  the  Government  to  put  my 
pet  canal  on  the  list  of  famine-relief  works.  It's 
an  ill  wind  that  blows  no  good.  I  shall  get  that 
canal  finished  at  last." 

"  Is  it  the  old  programme  then,"  said  Holden ; 
"famine,  fever,  and  cholera*?" 

"  Oh,  no.  Only  local  scarcity  and  an  unusual 
prevalence  of  seasonal  sickness.  You'll  find  it  all 
in  the  reports  if  you  live  till  next  year.  You're 
a  lucky  chap.  Tou  haven't  got  a  wife  to  send 
out  of  harm's  way.  The  hill-stations  ought  to  be 
full  of  women  this  year." 

"  I  think  you're  inclined  to  exaggerate  the  talk 
in  the  bazars^''  said  a  young  civilian  in  the  Secre- 
tariat.   "Now  I  have  observed  " 

"  I  daresay  you  have,"  said  the  Deputy  Com- 
missioner, "but  you've  a  great  deal  more  to 
observe,  my  son.  Tn  the  meantime,  I  wish  to  ob- 
serve to  you  "  and  he  drew  him  aside  to  dis- 
cuss the  construction  of  the  canal  that  was  so  dear 
to  his  heart.  Holden  went  to  his  bungalow  and 
began  to  understand  that  he  was  not  alone  in  the 

128 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


world,  and  also  that  he  was  afraid  for  the  sake  of 
another  —  which  is  the  most  soul-satisfying  fear 
known  to  man. 

Two  months  later,  as  the  Deputy  had  foretold, 
Nature  began  to  audit  her  accounts  with  a  red  pen- 
cil. On  the  heels  of  the  spring-reapings  came  a 
cry  for  bread,  and  the  Government,  which  had  de- 
creed that  no  man  should  die  of  want,  sent  wheat. 
Then  came  the  cholera  from  all  four  quarters  of 
the  compass.  It  struck  a  pilgrim-gathering  of 
half  a  million  at  a  sacred  shrine.  Many  died  at 
the  feet  of  their  god;  the  others  broke  and  ran 
over  the  face  of  the  land,  carrying  the  pestilence 
with  them.  It  smote  a  walled  city  and  killed  two 
hundred  a  day.  The  people  crowded  the  trains, 
hanging  on  to  the  footboards  and  squatting  on  the 
roofs  of  the  carriages,  and  the  cholera  followed 
them,  for  at  each  station  they  dragged  out  the  dead 
and  the  dying.  They  died  by  the  roadside,  and 
the  horses  of  the  Englishmen  shied  at  the  corpses 
in  the  grass.  The  rains  did  not  come,  and  the 
earth  turned  to  iron  lest  man  should  escape  death 
by  hiding  in  her.  The  English  sent  their  wives 
away  to  the  hills  and  went  about  their  work,  com- 
ing forward  as  they  were  bidden  to  fill  the  gaps  in 
the  fighting-line.  Holden,  sick  with  fear  of  losing 
his  chiefest  treasure  on  earth,  had  done  his  best  to 
persuade  Ameera  to  go  away  with  her  mother  to 
the  Himalayas. 

129 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"Why  should  I  go*?*'  said  she  one  evening  on 
the  roof. 

'*  There  is  sickness,  and  people  are  dying,  and 
all  the  white  fnem-log  have  gone." 
"  All  of  them  ?  " 

"  All  —  unless  perhaps  there  remain  some  old 
scald-head  who  vexes  her  husband's  heart  by  run- 
ning risk  of  death." 

"Nay;  who  stays  is  my  sister,  and  thou  must 
not  abuse  her,  for  I  will  be  a  scald-head  too.  I 
am  glad  all  the  bold  mem-log  are  gone." 

"Do  I  speak  to  a  woman  or  a  babe*?  Go 
to  the  hills  and  I  will  see  to  it  that  thou  goest 
like  a  queen's  daughter.  Think,  child.  In  a 
red-lacquered  bullock-cart,  veiled  and  curtained, 
with  brass  peacocks  upon  the  pole  and  red  cloth 
hangings.  I  will  send  two  orderlies  for  guard, 
and  " 

"  Peace  !  Thou  art  the  babe  in  speaking  thus. 
What  use  are  those  toys  to  me  *?  He  would  have 
patted  the  bullocks  and  played  with  the  housings. 
For  his  sake,  perhaps, —  thou  hast  made  me  very 
English  —  I  might  have  gone.  Now,  I  will  not. 
Let  the  mem-log  run." 

"  Their  husbands  are  sending  them,  beloved." 

"  Very  good  talk.  Since  when  hast  thou  been 
my  husband  to  tell  me  what  to  do  ?  I  have  but 
borne  thee  a  son.  Thou  art  only  all  the  desire  of 
my  soul  to  me.    How  shall  I  depart  when  I  know 

130 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


that  if  evil  befall  thee  by  the  breadth  of  so  much 
as  my  littlest  finger-nail  —  is  that  not  small  ?  —  I 
should  be  aware  of  it  though  I  were  in  paradise. 
And  here,  this  summer  thou  mayest  die — aijanee^ 
die ! — and  in  dying  they  might  call  to  tend  thee  a 
white  woman,  and  she  would  rob  me  in  the  last 
of  thy  love  !  " 

"But  love  is  not  born  in  a  moment  or  on  a 
death-bed ! " 

"  What  dost  thou  know  of  love,  stoneheart  ? 
She  would  take  thy  thanks  at  least,  and,  by  God 
and  the  Prophet  and  Beebee  Miriam  the  mother 
of  thy  Prophet,  that  I  will  never  endure.  My 
lord  and  my  love,  let  there  be  no  more  foolish 
talk  of  going  away.  Where  thou  art,  I  am.  It 
is  enough."  She  put  an  arm  round  his  neck  and 
a  hand  on  his  mouth. 

There  are  not  many  happinesses  so  complete  as 
those  that  are  snatched  under  the  shadow  of  the 
sword.  They  sat  together  and  laughed,  calling 
each  other  openly  by  every  pet  name  that  could 
move  the  wrath  of  the  gods.  The  city  below 
them  was  locked  up  in  its  own  torments.  Sul- 
phur fires  blazed  in  the  streets ;  the  conches  in  the 
Hindu  temples  screamed  and  bellowed,  for  the 
gods  were  inattentive  in  those  days.  There  was 
a  service  in  the  great  Mahomedan  shrine,  and  the 
call  to  prayer  from  the  minarets  was  almost  un- 
ceasing.   They  heard  the  wailing  in  the  houses 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


of  the  dead,  and  once  the  shriek  of  a  mother  who 
had  lost  a  child  and  was  calling  for  its  return.  In 
the  gray  dawn  they  saw  the  dead  borne  out  through 
the  city  gates,  each  litter  with  its  own  little  knot 
of  mourners.  Wherefore  they  kissed  each  other 
and  shivered. 

It  was  a  red  and  heavy  audit,  for  the  land  was 
very  sick  and  needed  a  little  breathing-space  ere 
the  torrent  of  cheap  life  should  flood  it  anew. 
The  children  of  immature  fathers  and  undeveloped 
mothers  made  no  resistance.  They  were  cowed  and 
sat  still,  waiting  till  the  sword  should  be  sheathed 
in  November  if  it  were  so  willed.  There  were 
gaps  among  the  English,  but  the  gaps  were  filled. 
The  work  of  superintending  famine-relief,  cholera- 
sheds,  medicine-distribution,  and  what  little  sani- 
tation was  possible,  went  forward  because  it  was 
so  ordered. 

Holden  had  been  told  to  keep  himself  in  readi- 
ness to  move  to  replace  the  next  man  who  should 
fall.  There  were  twelve  hours  in  each  day  when 
he  could  not  see  Ameera,  and  she  might  die  in 
three.  He  was  considering  what  his  pain  would 
be  if  he  could  not  see  her  for  three  months,  or  if 
she  died  out  of  his  sight.  He  was  absolutely  cer- 
tain that  her  death  would  be  demanded  —  so  cer- 
tain that  when  he  looked  up  from  the  telegram 
and  saw  Pir  Khan  breathless  in  the  doorway,  he 

laughed  aloud.    "  And "  said  he,  ■ 

1^2 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


"  When  there  is  a  cry  in  the  night  and  the  spirit 
flutters  into  the  throat,  who  has  a  charm  that  will 
restore  ?  Come  swiftly,  Heaven-born !  It  is  the 
black  cholera." 

Holden  galloped  to  his  home.  The  sky  was 
heavy  with  clouds,  for  the  long-deferred  rains  were 
near  and  the  heat  was  stifling.  Ameera's  mother 
met  him  in  the  courtyard,  whimpering,  "  She  is 
dying.  She  is  nursing  herself  into  death.  She  is 
all  but  dead.    What  shall  I  do.  Sahib  ?  " 

Ameera  was  lying  in  the  room  in  which  Tota 
had  been  born.  She  made  no  sign  when  Holden 
entered,  because  the  human  soul  is  a  very  lonely 
thing,  and,  when  it  is  getting  ready  to  go  away, 
hides  itself  in  a  misty  borderland  where  the  living 
may  not  follow.  The  black  cholera  does  its  work 
quietly  and  without  explanation.  Ameera  was  be- 
ing thrust  out  of  life  as  though  the  Angel  of  Death 
had  himself  put  his  hand  upon  her.  The  quick 
breathing  seemed  to  show  that  she  was  either  afraid 
or  in  pain,  but  neither  eyes  nor  mouth  gave  any 
answer  to  Holden's  kisses.  There  was  nothing  to 
be  said  or  done.  Holden  could  only  wait  and  suf- 
fer. The  first  drops  of  the  rain  began  to  fall  on 
the  roof,  and  he  could  hear  shouts  of  joy  in  the ' 
parched  city,        i^^^  ^ 

The  soul  came  back  a  little  and  the  lips  moved. 
Holden  bent  down  to  listen.  "  Keep  nothing  of 
mine,"  said  Ameera.     "  Take  no  hair  from  my 

133 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


head.  Sbe  would  make  thee  burn  it  later  on. 
That  flame  I  should  feel.  Lower !  Stoop  lower  I 
Remember  only  that  I  was  thine  and  bore  thee  a 
son.  Though  thou  wed  a  white  woman  to-mor- 
row, the  pleasure  of  receiving  in  thy  arms  thy  first 
son  is  taken  from  thee  for  ever.  Remember  me 
when  thy  son  is  born — the  one  that  shall  carry  thy 
name  before  all  men.  His  misfortunes  be  on  my 
head.  I  bear  witness — I  bear  witness"  —  the  lips 
were  forming  the  words  on  his  ear — "  that  there 
is  no  God  but  —  thee,  beloved!" 

Then  she  died.  Holden  sat  still,  and  all  thought 
was  taken  from  him, —  till  he  heard  Ameera's 
mother  lift  the  curtain. 

"  Is  she  dead.  Sahib  ?  " 

"  She  is  dead." 

"  Then  I  will  mourn,  and  afterwards  take  an  in- 
ventory of  the  furniture  in  this  house.  For  that 
will  be  mine.  The  Sahib  does  not  mean  to  resume 
it  It  is  so  little,  so  very  little.  Sahib,  and  I  am 
an  old  woman.    I  would  like  to  lie  softly." 

"  For  the  mercy  of  God  be  silent  a  while.  Go 
out  and  mourn  where  I  cannot  hear." 

"  Sahib,  she  will  be  buried  in  four  hours." 

"  I  know  the  custom.  I  shall  go  ere  she  is  taken 
away.  That  matter  is  in  thy  hands.  Look  to  it, 
that  the  bed  on  which  —  on  which  she  lies  " 

"Aha!  That  beautiful  red-lacquered  bed.  I 
have  long  desired  " 

^34 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


"That  the  bed  is  left  here  untouched  for  my 
disposal.  All  else  in  the  house  is  thine.  Hire  a 
cart,  take  everything,  go  hence,  and  before  sunrise 
let  there  be  nothing  in  this  house  but  that  which  I 
have  ordered  thee  to  respect." 

"  I  am  an  old  woman.  I  would  stay  at  least 
for  the  days  of  mourning,  and  the  rains  have  just 
broken.    Whither  shall  I  go  ?  " 

"  What  is  that  to  me  ?  My  order  is  that  there 
is  a  going.  The  house  gear  is  worth  a  thousand 
rupees,  and  my  orderly  shall  bring  thee  a  hundred 
rupees  to-night." 

"  That  is  very  little.    Think  of  the  cart-hire." 

"  It  shall  be  nothing  unless  thou  goest,  and  with 
speed.  O  woman,  get  hence  and  leave  me  with 
my  dead ! " 

j  The  mother  shuffled  down  the  staircase,  and  in 
;  her  anxiety  to  take  stock  of  the  house-fittings  for- 
got to  mourn.  Holden  stayed  by  Ameera's  side 
and  the  rain  roared  on  the  roof  He  could  not 
think  connectedly  by  reason  of  the  noise,  though 
he  made  many  attempts  to  do  so.  Then  four 
sheeted  ghosts  glided  dripping  into  the  room  and 
stared  at  him  through  their  veils.  They  were  the 
washers  of  the  dead.  Holden  left  the  room  and 
went  out  to  his  horse.  He  had  come  in  a  dead, 
stifling  calm  through  ankle-deep  dust.  He  found 
the  courtyard  a  rain-lashed  pond  alive  with  frogs; 
a  torrent  of  yellow  water  ran  under  the  gate,  and  a 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


roaring  wind  drove  the  bolts  of  the  rain  like  buck- 
shot against  the  mud  walls.  Pir  Khan  was  shiver- 
ing in  his  little  hut  by  the  gate,  and  the  horse  was 
stamping  uneasily  in  the  water. 

"  I  have  been  told  the  Sahib's  order,"  said  Pir 
Khan.  "  It  is  well.  This  house  is  now  desolate. 
I  go  also,  for  my  monkey-face  would  be  a  re- 
minder of  that  which  has  been.  Concerning  the 
bed,  I  will  bring  that  to  thy  house  yonder  in  the 
morning;  but  remember.  Sahib,  it  will  be  to  thee  a 
knife  turning  in  a  green  wound.  I  go  upon  a  pil- 
grimage, and  I  will  take  no  money.  I  have  grown 
fat  in  the  protection  of  the  Presence  whose  sorrow  is 
my  sorrow.    For  the  last  time  I  hold  his  stirrup." 

He  touched  Holden's  foot  with  both  hands  and 
the  horse  sprang  out  into  the  road,  where  the  creak- 
ing bamboos  were  whipping  the  sky,  and  all  the 
frogs  were  chuckling.  Holden  could  not  see  for 
the  rain  in  his  face.  He  put  his  hands  before  his 
eyes  and  muttered  — 

"  Oh,  you  brute  !    You  utter  brute  I " 

The  news  of  his  trouble  was  already  in  his  bun- 
galow. He  read  the  knowledge  in  his  butler's  eyes 
when  Ahmed  Khan  brought  in  food,  and  for  the 
first  and  last  time  in  his  life  laid  a  hand  upon  his 
master's  shoulder,  saying,  "  Eat,  Sahib,  eat.  Meat 
is  good  against  sorrow.  I  also  have  known.  More- 
over, the  shadows  come  and  go.  Sahib;  the  shadows 
come  and  go.    These  be  curried  eggs." 

136 


WITHOUT  BENEFIT  OF  CLERGY 


Holden  could  neither  eat  nor  sleep.  The  hea- 
vens sent  down  eight  inches  of  rain  in  that  night 
and  washed  the  earth  clean.  The  waters  tore  down 
walls,  broke  roads,  and  scoured  open  the  shallow 
graves  on  the  Mahomedan  burying-ground.  All 
next  day  it  rained,  and  Holden  sat  still  in  his 
house  considering  his  sorrow.  On  the  morning 
of  the  third  day  he  received  a  telegram  which  said 
only,  "  Ricketts,  Myndonie.  Dying.  Holden  re- 
lieve. Immediate."  Then  he  thought  that  be- 
fore he  departed  he  would  look  at  the  house 
wherein  he  had  been  master  and  lord.  There  was 
a  break  in  the  weather,  and  the  rank  earth  steamed 
with  vapour. 

He  found  that  the  rains  had  torn  down  the  mud 
pillars  of  the  gateway,  and  the  heavy  wooden  gate 
that  had  guarded  his  life  hung  lazily  from  one 
hinge.  There  was  grass  three  inches  high  in  the 
courtyard ;  Pir  Khan's  lodge  was  empty,  and  the 
sodden  thatch  sagged  between  the  beams.  A  gray 
squirrel  was  in  possession  of  the  verandah,  as  if 
the  house  had  been  untenanted  for  thirty  years  in- 
stead of  three  days.  Ameera's  mother  had  re- 
moved everything  except  some  mildewed  matting. 
The  tick-tick  of  the  little  scorpions  as  they  hurried 
across  the  floor  was  the  only  sound  in  the  house. 
Ameera's  room  and  the  other  one  where  Tota  had 
lived  were  heavy  with  mildew;  and  the  narrow 
staircase  leading  to  the  roof  was  streaked  and  stained 

-■37 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


with  rain-borne  mud.  Holden  saw  all  these  things, 
and  came  out  again  to  meet  in  the  road  Durga 
Dass,  his  landlord, —  portly,  affable,  clothed  in 
white  muslin,  and  driving  a  Cee-spring  buggy. 
He  was  overlooking  his  property  to  see  how  the 
roofs  stood  the  stress  of  the  first  rains. 

"  I  have  heard,"  said  he,  "  you  will  not  take  this 
place  any  more.  Sahib  ?  " 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  it " 

"  Perhaps  I  shall  let  it  again." 

"  Then  I  will  keep  it  on  while  I  am  away." 

Durga  Dass  was  silent  for  some  time.  "  You 
shall  not  take  it  on,  Sahib,"  he  said.    "When  I 

was  a  young  man  I  also  ,  but  to-day  I  am  a 

member  of  the  Municipality.  Ho !  Ho !  No. 
When  the  birds  have  gone  what  need  to  keep  the 
nest?  I  will  have  it  pulled  down  —  the  timber 
will  sell  for  something  always.  It  shall  be  pulled 
down,  and  the  Municipality  shall  make  a  road 
across,  as  they  desire,  from  the  burning-ghaut  to 
the  city  wall,  so  that  no  man  may  say  where  this 
house  stood." 


«38 


NABOTH 


This  was  how  it  happened ;  and  the  truth  is  alsc 
an  allegory  of  Empire. 

I  met  him  at  the  corner  of  my  garden,  an  empty 
basket  on  his  head,  and  an  unclean  cloth  round 
his  loins.  That  was  all  the  property  to  which 
Naboth  had  the  shadow  of  a  claim  when  I  first 
saw  him.  He  opened  our  acquaintance  by  beg- 
ging. He  was  very  thin  and  showed  nearly  as 
many  ribs  as  his  basket ;  and  he  told  me  a  long 
story  about  fever  and  a  lawsuit,  and  an  iron  caul- 
dron that  had  been  seized  by  the  court  in  execu- 
tion of  a  decree.  I  put  my  hand  into  my  pocket 
to  help  Naboth,  as  kings  of  the  East  have  helped 
alien  adventurers  to  the  loss  of  their  kingdoms. 
A  rupee  had  hidden  in  my  waistcoat  lining.  I 
never  knew  it  was  there,  and  gave  the  trove  to 
Naboth  as  a  direct  gift  from  Heaven.  He  replied 
that  I  was  the  only  legitimate  Protector  of  the 
Poor  he  had  ever  known. 

Next  morning  he  reappeared,  a  little  fatter  in  the 
round,  and  curled  himself  into  knots  in  the  front  ve- 
randah.  He  said  I  was  his  father  and  his  mother. 


Copyright,  1891,  by  Macmillan  &  Co. 

139 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


and  the  direct  descendant  of  all  the  gods  in  his 
Pantheon,  besides  controlling  the  destinies  of  the 
universe.  He  himself  was  but  a  sweetmeat-seller, 
and  much  less  important  than  the  dirt  under  my 
feet.  I  had  heard  this  sort  of  thing  before,  so  I 
asked  him  what  he  wanted.  My  rupee,  quoth 
Naboth,  had  raised  him  to  the  everlasting  heavens, 
and  he  wished  to  prefer  a  request.  He  wished  to 
establish  a  sweetmeat-pitch  near  the  house  of  his 
benefactor,  to  gaze  on  my  revered  countenance  as 
I  went  to  and  fro  illumining  the  world.  I  was 
graciously  pleased  to  give  permission,  and  he 
went  away  with  his  head  between  his  knees. 

Now  at  the  far  end  of  my  garden  the  ground 
slopes  toward  the  public  road,  and  the  slope  is 
crowned  with  a  thick  shrubbery.  There  is  a  short 
carriage-road  from  the  house  to  the  Mall,  which 
passes  close  to  the  shrubbery.  Next  afternoon  I 
saw  that  Naboth  had  seated  himself  at  the  bottom 
of  the  slope,  down  in  the  dust  of  the  public  road, 
and  in  the  full  glare  of  the  sun,  with  a  starved 
basket  of  greasy  sweets  in  front  of  him.  He  had 
gone  into  trade  once  more  on  the  strength  of  my 
munificent  donation,  and  the  ground  was  as  Para- 
dise by  my  honoured  favour.  Remember,  there 
was  only  Naboth,  his  basket,  the  sunshine,  and 
the  gray  dust  when  the  sap  of  my  Empire  first 
began. 

Next  day  he  had  moved  himself  up  the  slope 
140 


NABOTH 


nearer  to  my  shrubbery,  and  waved  a  palm-leaf 
fan  to  keep  the  flies  off  the  sweets.  So  I  judged 
that  he  must  have  done  a  fair  trade. 

Four  days  later  I  noticed  that  he  had  backed 
himself  and  his  basket  under  the  shadow  of  the 
shrubbery,  and  had  tied  an  Isabella-coloured  rag 
between  two  branches  in  order  to  make  more 
shade.  There  were  plenty  of  sweets  in  his  basket. 
I  thought  that  trade  must  certainly  be  looking  up. 

Seven  weeks  later  the  Government  took  up  a 
plot  of  ground  for  a  Chief  Court  close  to  the  end 
of  my  compound,  and  employed  nearly  four  hun- 
dred coolies  on  the  foundations.  Naboth  bought 
a  blue  and  white  striped  blanket,  a  brass  lamp- 
stand,  and  a  small  boy  to  cope  with  the  rush  of 
trade,  which  was  tremendous. 

Five  days  later  he  bought  a  huge,  fat,  red-backed 
account-book  and  a  glass  inkstand.  Thus  I  saw 
that  the  coolies  had  been  getting  into  his  debt,  and 
that  commerce  was  increasing  on  legitimate  lines 
of  credit.  Also  I  saw  that  the  one  basket  had 
grown  into  three,  and  that  Naboth  had  backed 
and  hacked  into  the  shrubbery,  and  made  himself 
a  nice  little  clearing  for  the  proper  display  of  the 
basket,  the  blanket,  the  books,  and  the  boy. 

One  week  and  five  days  later  he  had  built  a 
mud  fireplace  in  the  clearing,  and  the  fat  account- 
book  was  overflowing.  He  said  that  God  created 
few  Englishmen  of  my  kind,  and  that  I  was  the 

341 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


incarnation  of  all  human  virtues.  He  offered  me 
some  of  his  sweets  as  tribute,  and  by  accepting 
these  I  acknowledged  him  as  my  feudatory  under 
the  skirt  of  my  protection. 

Three  weeks  later  I  noticed  that  the  boy  was  in 
the  habit  of  cooking  Naboth's  mid-day  meal  for 
him,  and  Naboth  was  beginning  to  grow  a  stom- 
ach. He  had  hacked  away  more  of  my  shrubbery, 
and  owned  another  and  a  fatter  account-book. 

Eleven  weeks  later  Naboth  had  eaten  his  way 
nearly  through  that  shrubbery,  and  there  was  a  reed 
hut  with  a  bedstead  outside  it,  standing  in  the 
little  glade  that  he  had  eroded.  Two  dogs  and  a 
baby  slept  on  the  bedstead.  So  I  fancied  Naboth 
had  taken  a  wife.  He  said  that  he  had,  by  my 
favour,  done  this  thing,  and  that  I  was  several 
times  finer  than  Krishna. 

Six  weeks  and  two  days  later  a  mud  wall  had 
grown  up  at  the  back  of  the  hut.  There  were 
fowls  in  front  and  it  smelt  a  little.  The  Municipal 
Secretary  said  that  a  cess-pool  was  forming  in  the 
public  road  from  the  drainage  of  my  compound, 
and  that  I  must  take  steps  to  clear  it  away.  I 
spoke  to  Naboth.  He  said  I  was  Lord  Paramount 
of  his  earthly  concerns,  and  the  garden  was  all  my 
own  property,  and  sent  me  some  more  sweets  in  a 
second-hand  duster. 

Two  months  later  a  coolie  bricklayer  was  killed 
in  a  scuffle  that  took  place  opposite  Naboth's  Vine- 

142 


NABOTH 


yard.  The  Inspector  of  Police  said  it  was  a  serious 
case ;  went  into  my  servants'  quarters ;  insulted  my 
butler's  wife,  and  wanted  to  arrest  my  butler.  The 
curious  thing  about  the  murder  was  that  most  of 
the  coolies  were  drunk  at  the  time.  Naboth  pointed 
out  that  my  name  was  a  strong  shield  between  him 
and  his  enemies,  and  he  expected  that  another  baby 
would  be  born  to  him  shortly. 

Four  months  later  the  hut  was  all  mud  walls, 
very  solidly  built,  and  Naboth  had  used  most  of 
my  shrubbery  for  his  five  goats.  A  silver  watch 
and  an  aluminium  chain  shone  upon  his  very  round 
stomach.  My  servants  were  alarmingly  drunk 
several  times,  and  used  to  waste  the  day  with  Na- 
both when  they  got  the  chance.  I  spoke  to  Naboth. 
He  said,  by  my  favour  and  the  glory  of  my  coun- 
tenance, he  would  make  all  his  women-folk  ladies, 
and  that  if  any  one  hinted  that  he  was  running  an 
illicit  still  under  the  shadow  of  the  tamarisks,  why, 
I,  his  Suzerain,  was  to  prosecute. 

A  week  later  he  hired  a  man  to  make  several 
dozen  square  yards  of  trellis-work  to  put  round  the 
back  of  his  hut,  that  his  women-folk  might  be 
screened  from  the  public  gaze.  The  man  went 
away  in  the  evening,  and  left  his  day's  work  to 
pave  the  short  cut  from  the  public  road  to  my 
house.  I  was  driving  home  in  the  dusk,  and 
turned  the  corner  by  Naboth's  Vineyard  quickly. 
The  next  thing  I  knew  was  that  the  horses  of  the 

H3 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


phaeton  were  stamping  and  plunging  in  the  strong- 
est sort  of  bamboo  net-work.  Both  beasts  came 
down.  One  rose  with  nothing  more  than  chipped 
knees.  The  other  was  so  badly  kicked  that  I  was 
forced  to  shoot  him. 

Naboth  is  gone  now,  and  his  hut  is  ploughed 
into  its  native  mud  with  sweetmeats  instead  of  salt 
for  a  sign  that  the  place  is  accursed.  I  have  built 
a  summer-house  to  overlook  the  end  of  the  garden, 
and  it  is  as  a  fort  on  my  frontier  whence  I  guard 
my  Empire. 

I  know  exactly  how  Ahab  felt.  He  has  been 
shamefully  misrepresented  in  the  Scriptures. 


144 


THE  SENDING  OF  DANA  DA 


When  the  Devil  rides  on  your  chest  remember  the  chamar, 

—  Native  Proverb, 

Once  upon  a  time,  some  people  in  India  made  a 
new  Heaven  and  a  new  Earth  out  of  broken  tea- 
cups, a  missing  brooch  or  two,  and  a  hair-brush. 
These  were  hidden  under  bushes,  or  stuffed  into 
holes  in  the  hillside,  and  an  entire  Civil  Service  of 
subordinate  Gods  used  to  find  or  mend  them  again; 
and  every  one  said :  "  There  are  more  things  in 
Heaven  and  Earth  than  are  dreamt  of  in  our  phi- 
losophy." Several  other  things  happened  also,  but 
the  Religion  never  seemed  to  get  much  beyond  its 
first  manifestations;  though  it  added  an  air-line 
postal  service,  and  orchestral  effects  in  order  to 
keep  abreast  of  the  times  and  choke  off  competi- 
tion. 

This  Religion  was  too  elastic  for  ordinary  use. 
It  stretched  itself  and  embraced  pieces  of  every- 
thing that  the  medicine-men  of  all  ages  have  manu- 
factured. It  approved  of  and  stole  from  Free- 
masonry; looted  the  Latter-day  Rosicrucians  of 
half  their  pet  words;  took  any  fragments  of  Egyp- 

145 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


tian  philosophy  that  it  found  in  the  "  Encyclo- 
paedia Britannica  "  ;  annexed  as  many  of  the  Vedas 
as  had  been  translated  into  French  or  English,  and 
talked  of  all  the  rest;  buUt  in  the  German  versions 
of  what  is  left  of  the  Zend  Avesta;  encouraged 
White,  Gray  and  Black  Magic,  including  spiri- 
tualism, palmistry,  fortune-telling  by  cards,  hot 
chestnuts,  double-kernelled  nuts  and  tallow-drop- 
pings ;  would  have  adopted  Voodoo  and  Oboe  had 
it  known  anything  about  them,  and  showed  itself, 
in  every  way,  one  of  the  most  accommodating  ar- 
rangements that  had  ever  been  invented  since  the 
birth  of  the  Sea. 

When  it  was  in  thorough  working  order,  with 
all  the  machinery,  down  to  the  subscriptions,  com- 
plete, Dana  Da  came  from  nowhere,  with  nothing 
in  his  hands,  and  wrote  a  chapter  in  its  history 
which  has  hitherto  been  unpublished.  He  said 
that  his  first  name  was  Dana,  and  his  second  was 
Da.  Now,  setting  aside  Dana  of  the  New  York 
"  Sun,"  Dana  is  a  Bhil  name,  and  Da  fits  no  native 
of  India  unless  you  accept  the  BengaU  De  as  the 
original  spelling.  Da  is  Lap  or  Finnish ;  and 
Dana  Da  was  neither  Finn,  Chin,  Bhil,  Bengali, 
Lap,  Nair,  Gond,  Romaney,  Magh,  Bokhariot, 
Kurd,  Armenian,  Levantine,  Jew,  Persian,  Punjabi, 
Madrasi,  Parsee,  nor  anything  else  known  to  eth- 
nologists. He  was  simply  Dana  Da,  and  declined 
to  give  further  information.    For  the  sake  of 

146 


THE  SENDING  OF  DANA  DA 


brevity  and  as  roughly  indicating  his  origin,  he 
was  called  "  The  Native."  He  might  have  been 
the  original  Old  Man  of  the  Mountains,  who  is 
said  to  be  the  only  authorized  head  of  the  Tea-cup 
Creed.  Some  people  said  that  he  was ;  but  Dana 
Da  used  to  smile  and  deny  any  connection  with 
the  cult ;  explaining  that  he  was  an  "  Independent 
Experimenter." 

As  I  have  said,  he  came  from  nowhere,  with  his 
hands  behind  his  back,  and  studied  the  Creed  for 
three  weeks ;  sitting  at  the  feet  of  those  best  com- 
petent to  explain  its  mysteries.  Then  he  laughed 
aloud  and  went  away,  but  the  laugh  might  have 
been  either  of  devotion  or  derision. 

When  he  returned  he  was  without  money,  but 
his  pride  was  unabated.  He  declared  that  he 
knew  more  about  the  Things  in  Heaven  and  Earth 
than  those  who  taught  him,  and  for  this  contumacy 
was  abandoned  altogether. 

His  next  appearance  in  public  life  was  at  a  big 
cantonment  in  Upper  India,  and  he  was  then  tell- 
ing fortunes  with  the  help  of  three  leaden  dice,  a 
very  dirty  old  cloth,  and  a  little  tin  box  of  opium 
pills.  He  told  better  fortunes  when  he  was  al- 
lowed half  a  bottle  of  whiskey ;  but  the  things 
which  he  invented  on  the  opium  were  quite  worth 
the  money.  He  was  in  reduced  circumstances. 
Among  other  people's  he  told  the  fortune  of  an 
Englishman  who  had  once  been  interested  in  the 

H7 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


Simla  Creed,  but  who,  later  on,  had  married  and 
forgotten  all  his  old  knowledge  in  the  study  of 
babies  and  things.  The  Englishman  allowed  Dana 
Da  to  tell  a  fortune  for  charity's  sake,  and  gave 
him  five  rupees,  a  dinner,  and  some  old  clothes. 
When  he  had  eaten,  Dana  Da  professed  gratitude, 
and  asked  if  there  were  anything  he  could  do  for 
his  host  —  in  the  esoteric  line. 

"  Is  there  any  one  that  you  love  ?  "  said  Dana 
Da.  The  Englishman  loved  his  wife,  but  had  no 
desire  to  drag  her  name  into  the  conversation.  He 
therefore  shook  his  head. 

"  Is  there  any  one  that  you  hate  ^  "  said  Dana 
Da.  The  Englishman  said  that  there  were  several 
men  whom  he  hated  deeply. 

"  Very  good,"  said  Dana  Da,  upon  whom  the 
whiskey  and  the  opium  were  beginning  to  tell. 
"  Only  give  me  their  names,  and  I  will  despatch 
a  Sending  to  them  and  kill  them." 

Now  a  Sending  is  a  horrible  arrangement,  first 
invented,  they  say,  in  Iceland.  It  is  a  Thing  sent 
by  a  wizard,  and  may  take  any  form,  but,  most 
generally,  wanders  about  the  land  in  the  shape  of 
a  little  purple  cloud  till  it  finds  the  Sendee,  and 
him  it  kills  by  changing  into  the  form  of  a  horse, 
or  a  cat,  or  a  man  without  a  face.  It  is  not  strictly 
a  native  patent,  though  chatnars  of  the  skin  and 
hide  castes  can,  if  irritated,  despatch  a  Sending 
which  sits  on  the  breast  of  their  enemy  by  night 

148 


THE  SENDING  OF  DANA  DA 


and  nearly  kills  him.  Very  few  natives  care  to 
irritate  chafnars  for  this  reason. 

"  Let  me  despatch  a  Sending,"  said  Dana  Da ; 
"  I  am  nearly  dead  now  with  want,  and  drink,  and 
opium;  but  I  should  like  to  kill  a  man  before  I 
die.  I  can  send  a  Sending  anywhere  you  choose, 
and  in  any  form  except  in  the  shape  of  a  man." 

The  Englishman  had  no  friends  that  he  wished 
to  kill,  but  partly  to  soothe  Dana  Da,  whose  eyes 
were  rolling,  and  partly  to  see  what  would  be  done, 
he  asked  whether  a  modified  Sending  could  not  be 
arranged  for  —  such  a  Sending  as  should  make  a 
man's  life  a  burden  to  him,  and  yet  do  him  no 
harm.  If  this  were  possible,  he  notified  his  will- 
ingness to  give  Dana  Da  ten  rupees  for  the  job. 

"  I  am  not  what  I  was  once,"  said  Dana  Da, 
*'  and  I  must  take  the  money  because  I  am  poor. 
To  what  Englishman  shall  I  send  it  *?  " 

"  Send  a  Sending  to  Lone  Sahib,"  said  the  Eng- 
lishman, naming  a  man  who  had  been  most  bitter 
in  rebuking  him  for  his  apostasy  from  the  Tea- 
cup Creed.    Dana  Da  laughed  and  nodded. 

"  I  could  have  chosen  no  better  man  myself," 
said  he.  "  I  will  see  that  he  finds  the  Sending 
about  his  path  and  about  his  bed." 

He  lay  down  on  the  hearth-rug,  turned  up  the 
whites  of  his  eyes,  shivered  all  over  and  began  to 
snort.  This  was  Magic,  or  Opium,  or  the  Send- 
ing, or  all  three.    When  he  opened  his  eyes  he 

149 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


vowed  that  the  Sending  had  started  upon  the  war- 
path, and  was  at  that  moment  flying  up  to  the 
town  where  Lone  Sahib  lives. 

"  Give  me  my  ten  rupees,"  said  Dana  Da  wearily, 
"  and  write  a  letter  to  Lone  Sahib,  telling  him, 
and  all  who  believe  with  him,  that  you  and  a 
friend  are  using  a  power  greater  than  theirs.  They 
will  see  that  you  are  speaking  the  truth.'* 

He  departed  unsteadily,  with  the  promise  of 
some  more  rupees  if  anything  came  of  the  Sending. 

The  Englishman  sent  a  letter  to  Lone  Sahib, 
couched  in  what  he  remembered  of  the  termi- 
nology of  the  Creed.  He  wrote  :  "  I  also,  in  the 
days  of  what  you  held  to  be  my  backsliding,  have 
obtained  Enlightenment,  and  with  Enlightenment 
has  come  Power."  Then  he  grew  so  deeply  mys- 
terious that  the  recipient  of  the  letter  could  make 
neither  head  nor  tail  of  it,  and  was  proportionately 
impressed ;  for  he  fancied  that  his  friend  had  be- 
come a  "  fifth-rounder."  When  a  man  is  a  "  fifth- 
rounder"  he  can  do  more  than  Slade  and  Houdin 
combined. 

Lone  Sahib  read  the  letter  in  five  different  fash- 
ions, and  was  beginning  a  sixth  interpretation  when 
his  bearer  dashed  in  with  the  news  that  there  was 
a  cat  on  the  bed.  Now  if  there  was  one  thing  that 
Lone  Sahib  hated  more  than  another,  it  was  a  cat. 
He  scolded  the  bearer  for  not  turning  it  out  of  the 
house.    The  bearer  said  that  he  was  afraid.  All 

150 


THE  SENDING  OF  DANA  DA 


the  doors  of  the  bedroom  had  been  shut  through- 
out the  morning,  and  no  real  cat  could  possibly 
have  entered  the  room.  He  would  prefer  not  to 
meddle  with  the  creature. 

Lone  Sahib  entered  the  room  gingerly,  and  there, 
on  the  pillow  of  his  bed,  sprawled  and  whimpered 
a  wee  white  kitten ;  not  a  jumpsome,  frisky  little 
beast,  but  a  slug-like  crawler  with  its  eyes  barely 
opened  and  its  paws  lacking  strength  or  direction. 
—  a  kitten  that  ought  to  have  been  in  a  basket 
with  its  mamma.  Lone  Sahib  caught  it  by  the 
scruff  of  its  neck,  handed  it  over  to  the  sweeper  to 
be  drowned,  and  fined  the  bearer  four  annas. 

That  evening,  as  he  was  reading  in  his  room,  he 
fancied  that  he  saw  something  moving  about  on 
'  the  hearth-rug,  outside  the  circle  of  light  from  his 
reading-lamp.  When  the  thing  began  to  myowl, 
he  realised  that  it  was  a  kitten — a  wee  white  kit* 
ten,  nearly  blind  and  very  miserable.  He  was 
seriously  angry,  and  spoke  bitterly  to  his  bearer, 
who  said  that  there  was  no  kitten  in  the  room 
when  he  brought  in  the  lamp,  and  real  kittens 
of  tender  age  generally  had  mother-cats  in  at- 
tendance. 

"  If  the  Presence  will  go  out  into  the  verandah 
and  listen,"  said  the  bearer,  "  he  will  hear  no  cats. 
How,  therefore,  can  the  kitten  on  the  bed  and  the 
kitten  on  the  hearth-rug  be  real  kittens  " 

Lone  Sahib  went  out  to  listen,  and  the  bearer 

151 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 

followed  him,  but  there  was  no  sound  of  any  one 
mewing  for  her  children.  He  returned  to  his  room, 
having  hurled  the  kitten  down  the  hillside,  and 
wrote  out  the  incidents  of  the  day  for  the  benefit 
of  his  co-religionists.  Those  people  were  so  ab- 
solutely free  from  superstition  that  they  ascribed 
anything  a  little  out  of  the  common  to  Agencies. 
As  it  was  their  business  to  know  all  about  the 
Agencies,  they  were  on  terms  of  almost  indecent 
familiarity  with  Manifestations  of  every  kind. 
Their  letters  dropped  from  the  ceiling  —  un- 
stamped—  and  Spirits  used  to  squatter  up  and 
down  their  staircases  all  night ;  but  they  had  never 
come  into  contact  with  kittens.  Lone  Sahib  wrote 
out  the  facts,  noting  the  hour  and  the  minute,  as 
every  Psychical  Observer  is  bound  to  do,  and  ap- 
pending the  Englishman's  letter  because  it  was  the 
most  mysterious  document  and  might  have  had  a 
bearing  upon  anything  in  this  world  or  the  next. 
An  outsider  would  have  translated  all  the  tangle 
thus :  "  Look  out !  You  laughed  at  me  once,  and 
now  I  am  going  to  make  you  sit  up." 

Lone  Sahib's  co-religionists  found  that  meaning 
in  it;  but  their  translation  was  refined  and  full  of 
four-syllable  words.  They  held  a  sederunt,  and 
were  filled  with  tremulous  joy,  for,  in  spite  of  their 
familiarity  with  all  the  other  worlds  and  cycles, 
they  had  a  very  human  awe  of  things  sent  from 
Ghost-land.    They  met  in  Lone  Sahib's  room  in 

152 


THE  SENDING  OF  DANA  DA 


shrouded  and  sepulchral  gloom,  and  their  conclave 
was  broken  up  by  a  clinking  among  the  photo- 
frames  on  the  mantelpiece.  A  wee  white  kitten, 
nearly  blind,  was  looping  and  writhing  itself  be- 
tween the  clock  and  the  candlesticks.  That  stopped 
all  investigations  or  doubtings.  Here  was  the 
Manifestation  in  the  flesh.  It  was,  so  far  as  could 
be  seen,  devoid  of  purpose,  but  it  was  a  Manifes- 
tation of  undoubted  authenticity. 

They  drafted  a  Round  Robin  to  the  English- 
man, the  backslider  of  old  days,  adjuring  him  in 
the  interests  of  the  Creed  to  explain  whether  there 
was  any  connection  between  the  embodiment  of 
some  Egyptian  God  or  other  (I  have  forgotten  the 
name)  and  his  communication.  They  called  the 
kitten  Ra,  or  Toth,  or  Tum,  or  something;  and 
when  Lone  Sahib  confessed  that  the  first  one  had, 
at  his  most  misguided  instance,  been  drowned  by 
the  sweeper,  they  said  consolingly  that  in  his  next 
life  he  would  be  a  "bounder,"  and  not  even  a 
"  rounder  "  of  the  lowest  grade.  These  words  may 
not  be  quite  correct,  but  they  accurately  express 
the  sense  of  the  house. 

When  the  Englishman  received  the  Round 
Robin  —  it  came  by  post  —  he  was  startled  and 
bewildered.  He  sent  into  the  bazar  for  Dana  Da, 
who  read  the  letter  and  laughed.  "  That  is  my 
Sending,"  said  he.  "I  told  you  I  would  work 
well.    Now  give  me  another  ten  napees." 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"  But  what  in  the  world  is  this  gibberish  about 
Egyptian  Gods  ^  "  asked  the  Englishman. 

"  Cats,"  said  Dana  Da  with  a  hiccough,  for  he 
had  discovered  the  Englishman's  whiskey-bottle. 
"Cats,  and  cats,  and  cats!  Never  was  such  a 
Sending.  A  hundred  of  cats.  Now  give  me  ten 
more  rupees  and  write  as  I  dictate." 

Dana  Da's  letter  was  a  curiosity.  It  bore  the 
Englishman's  signature,  and  hinted  at  cats  —  at  a 
Sending  of  Cats.  The  mere  words  on  paper  were 
creepy  and  uncanny  to  behold. 

"  What  have  you  done,  though  ?  "  said  the  Eng- 
lishman. "  I  am  as  much  in  the  dark  as  ever.  Do 
you  mean  to  say  that  you  can  actually  send  this  ab- 
surd Sending  you  talk  about  ?  " 

"  J udge  for  yourself,"  said  Dana  Da.  "  What 
does  that  letter  mean?  In  a  little  time  they  will 
all  be  at  my  feet  and  yours,  and  I  —  O  Glory  I  — 
will  be  drugged  or  drunk  all  day  long." 

Dana  Da  knew  his  people. 

When  a  man  who  hates  cats  wakes  up  in  the 
morning  and  finds  a  little  squirming  kitten  on  his 
breast,  or  puts  his  hand  into  his  ulster-pocket  and 
finds  a  little  half-dead  kitten  where  his  gloves 
should  be,  or  opens  his  trunk  and  finds  a  vile  kit- 
ten among  his  dress-shirts,  or  goes  for  a  long  ride 
with  his  mackintosh  strapped  on  his  saddle-bow 
and  shakes  a  little  squawling  kitten  from  its  folds 
when  he  opens  it,  or  goes  out  to  dinner  and  finds 

154 


THE  SENDING  OF  DANA  DA 


a  little  blind  kitten  under  his  chair,  or  stays  at 
home  and  finds  a  writhing  kitten  under  the  quilt, 
or  wriggling  among  his  boots,  or  hanging,  head 
downwards,  in  his  tobacco-jar,  or  being  mangled 
by  his  terrier  in  the  verandah, —  when  such  a  man 
finds  one  kitten,  neither  more  nor  less,  once  a  day 
in  a  place  where  no  kitten  rightly  could  or  should 
be,  he  is  naturally  upset.  When  he  dare  not  mur- 
der his  daily  trove  because  he  believes  it  to  be  a 
Manifestation,  an  Emissary,  an  Embodiment,  and 
half  a  dozen  other  things  all  out  of  the  regular 
course  of  nature,  he  is  more  than  upset.  He  is 
actually  distressed.  Some  of  Lone  Sahib's  co-re- 
ligionists thought  that  he  was  a  highly  favoured 
individual;  but  many  said  that  if  he  had  treated 
the  first  kitten  with  proper  respect  —  as  suited  a 
Toth-Ra-Tum-Sennacherib  Embodiment — all  this 
trouble  would  have  been  averted.  They  compared 
him  to  the  Ancient  Mariner,  but  none  the  less 
they  were  proud  of  him  and  proud  of  the  English- 
man who  had  sent  the  Manifestation.  They  did 
not  call  it  a  Sending  because  Icelandic  magic  was 
not  in  their  programme. 

After  sixteen  kittens,  that  is  to  say  after  one 
fortnight,  for  there  were  three  kittens  on  the  first 
day  to  impress  the  fact  of  the  Sending,  the  whole 
camp  was  uplifted  by  a  letter  —  it  came  flying 
through  a  window  —  from  the  Old  Man  of  the 
Mountains — the  Head  of  all  the  Creed — explain- 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 

ing  the  Manifestation  in  the  most  beautiful  lan- 
guage and  soaking  up  all  the  credit  for  it  himself 
The  Englishman,  said  the  letter,  was  not  there  at 
all.  He  was  a  backslider  without  Power  or  As- 
ceticism, who  couldn't  even  raise  a  table  by  force 
of  volition,  much  less  project  an  army  of  kittens 
through  space.  The  entire  arrangement,  said  the 
letter,  was  strictly  orthodox,  worked  and  sanctioned 
by  the  highest  authorities  within  the  pale  of  the 
Creed.  There  was  great  joy  at  this,  for  some  of 
the  weaker  brethren  seeing,  that  an  outsider  who 
had  been  working  on  independent  lines  could  cre- 
ate kittens,  whereas  their  own  rulers  had  never 
gone  beyond  crockery — and  broken  at  best — were 
showing  a  desire  to  break  line  on  their  own  trail. 
In  fact,  there  was  the  promise  of  a  schism.  A 
second  Round  Robin  was  drafted  to  the  English- 
man, beginning:  "O  Scoffer,"  and  ending  with  a 
selection  of  curses  from  the  Rites  of  Mizraim  and 
Memphis  and  the  Commination  of  Jugana,  who 
was  a  "  fifth  rounder  "  upon  whose  name  an  up- 
start "third-rounder"  once  traded.  A  papal  ex- 
communication is  a  billet-doux  compared  to  the 
Commination  of  Jugana.  The  Englishman  had 
been  proved,  under  the  hand  and  seal  of  the  Old 
Man  of  the  Mountains,  to  have  appropriated  Vir- 
tue and  pretended  to  have  Power  which,  in  reality, 
belonged  only  tc  the  Supreme  Head.  Naturally 
the  Round  Robin  did  not  spare  him. 

156 


THE  SENDING  OF  DANA  DA 


He  handed  the  letter  to  Dana  Da  to  translate 
into  decent  English.  The  effect  on  Dana  Da  was 
curious.  At  first  he  was  furiously  angry,  and  then 
he  laughed  for  five  minutes. 

"  I  had  thought,"  he  said,  "  that  they  would  have 
come  to  me.  In  another  week  I  would  have  shown 
that  I  sent  the  Sending,  and  they  would  have  dis- 
crowned the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountains  who  has 
sent  this  Sending  of  mine.  Do  you  do  nothing. 
The  time  has  come  for  me  to  act.  Write  as  I 
dictate,  and  I  will  put  them  to  shame.  But  give 
me  ten  more  rupees." 

At  Dana  Da's  dictation  the  Englishman  wrote 
nothing  less  than  a  formal  challenge  to  the  Old 
Man  of  the  Mountains.  It  wound  up  :  "  And  if 
this  Manifestation  be  from  your  hand,  then  let  it 
go  forward ;  but  if  it  be  from  my  hand,  I  will  that 
the  Sending  shall  cease  in  two  days'  time.  On 
that  day  there  shall  be  twelve  kittens  and  thence- 
forward none  at  all.  The  people  shall  judge  be- 
tween us."  This  was  signed  by  Dana  Da,  who 
added  pentacles  and  pentagrams,  and  a  crux  ansata, 
and  half  a  dozen  swastikas^  and  a  Triple  Tau  to 
his  name,  just  to  show  that  he  was  all  he  laid  claim 
to  be. 

The  challenge  was  read  out  to  the  gentlemen 
and  ladies,  and  they  remembered  then  that  Dana 
Da  had  laughed  at  them  some  years  ago.  It  was 
officially  announced  that  the  Old  Man  of  the  Moun- 

157 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


tains  would  treat  the  matter  with  contempt ;  Dana 
Da  being  an  Independent  Investigator  without  a 
single  "  round  "  at  the  back  of  him.  But  this  did 
not  soothe  his  people.  They  wanted  to  see  a  fight. 
They  were  very  human  for  all  their  spirituality. 
Lone  Sahib,  who  was  really  being  worn  out  with 
kittens,  submitted  meekly  to  his  fate.  He  felt 
that  he  was  being  "  kittened  to  prove  the  power 
of  Dana  Da,"  as  the  poet  says. 

When  the  stated  day  dawned,  the  shower  of 
kittens  began.  Some  were  white  and  some  were 
tabby,  and  all  were  about  the  same  loathsome  age. 
Three  were  on  his  hearth-rug,  three  in  his  bath- 
room, and  the  other  six  turned  up  at  intervals 
among  the  visitors  who  came  to  see  the  prophecy 
break  down.  Never  was  a  more  satisfactory  Send- 
ing. On  the  next  day  there  were  no  kittens,  and 
the  next  day  and  all  the  other  days  were  kittenless 
and  quiet.  The  people  murmured  and  looked  to 
the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountains  for  an  explanation. 
A  letter,  written  on  a  palm-leaf,  dropped  from  the 
ceiling,  but  every  one  except  Lone  Sahib  felt  that 
letters  were  not  what  the  occasion  demanded. 
There  should  have  been  cats,  there  should  have  been 
cats, —  full-grown  ones.  The  letter  proved  conclu- 
sively that  there  had  been  a  hitch  in  the  Psychic 
Current  which,  colliding  with  a  Dual  Identity,  had 
interfered  with  the  Percipient  Activity  all  along 
the  main  line.    The  kittens  were  still  going  on, 

158 


THE  SENDING  OF  DANA  D/ 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


tains  would  treat  the  matter  with  contempt ;  Dana 
Da  being  an  Independent  Investigator  without  a 
single  "  round  "  at  the  back  of  him.  But  this  did 
not  soothe  his  people.  They  wanted  to  see  a  fight. 
They  were  very  human  for  all  their  spirituality. 
Lone  Sahib,  who  was  really  being  worn  out  with 
kittens,  submitted  meekly  to  his  fate.  He  felt 
that  he  was  being  kittened  to  prove  the  power 
of  Dana  Da,"  as  the  poet  says. 

When  the  stated  day  dawned,  the  shower  of 
kittens  began.  Some  were  white  and  some  were 
tabby,  and  all  were  about  the  same  loathsome  age. 
Tiiree  were  on  his  hearth-rug,  three  in  his  bath- 
room, and  the  other  six  turned  up  at  iiitervals 
among  the  visitors  who  came  to  see  the  prophecy 
break  down.  Never  was  a  more  satisfactory  Send- 
ing. On  the  next  day  there  were  no  kittens,  and 
the  next  day  and  all  the  other  days  were  kittenless 
and  quiet.  The  people  murmured  and  looked  to 
the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountains  for  an  explanation. 
A  letter,  written  on  a  palm-leaf,  dropped  from  the 
ceiling,  but  every  one  except  Lone  Sahib  felt  that 
letters  were  not  what  the  occasion  demanded. 
There  should  have  been  cats,  there  should  have  been 
cats, —  full-grown  ones.  The  letter  proved  conclu- 
sively that  there  had  been  a  hitch  in  the  Psychic 
Current  which,  colliding  with  a  Dual  Identity,  had 
interfered  with  the  Percipient  Activity  all  along 

the  maindil^^AaT^  WWfiSftigeifefi^l  g^^^^S 

158 


THE  SENDING  OF  DANA  DA 


but  owing  to  some  failure  in  the  Developing  Fluid, 
they  were  not  materialised.  The  air  was  thick 
with  letters  for  a  few  days  afterwards.  Unseen 
hande  played  Gllick  and  Beethoven  on  finger- 
bowls  and  clock-shades ;  but  all  men  felt  that  Psy- 
chic Life  was  a  mockery  without  materialised  Kit- 
tens. Even  Lone  Sahib  shouted  with  the  majority 
on  this  head.  Dana  Da's  letters  were  very  insult- 
ing, and  if  he  had  then  offered  to  lead  a  new  de- 
parture, there  is  no  knowing  what  might  not  have 
happened. 

But  Dana  Da  was  dying  of  whiskey  and  opium 
in  the  Englishman's  godown,  and  had  small  heart 
for  honours. 

"They  have  been  put  to  shame,"  said  he. 
"Never  was  such  a  Sending.    It  has  killed  me." 

"  Nonsense,"  said  the  Englishman,  "  you  are  go- 
ing to  die,  Dana  Da,  and  that  sort  of  stuff  must  be 
left  behind.  I'll  admit  that  you  have  made  some 
queer  things  come  about.  Tell  me  honestly,  now, 
how  was  it  done  ^  " 

"Give  me  ten  more  rupees,"  said  Dana  Da 
faintly,  "  and  if  I  die  before  I  spend  them,  bury 
them  with  me."  The  silver  was  counted  out  while 
Dana  Da  was  fighting  with  Death.  His  hand 
closed  upon  the  money  and  he  smiled  a  grim 
smile. 

"Bend  low,"  he  whispered.  The  Englishman 
bent. 

159 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


**  Bunnia  —  Mission-school  —  expelled  —  box- 
wallah  (peddler)  —  Ceylon  pearl-merchant  —  all 
mine  English  education  —  out-casted,  and  made 
up  name  Dana  Da  —  England  with  American 
thought-reading  man  and  —  and  —  you  gave  me 
ten  rupees  several  times  —  I  gave  the  Sahib's  bearer 
two-eight  a  month  for  cats  —  little,  little  cats.  I 
wrote,  and  he  put  them  about  —  very  clever  man. 
Very  few  kittens  now  in  the  bazar.  Ask  Lone 
Sahib's  sweeper's  wife." 

So  saying,  Dana  Da  gasped  and  passed  away 
into  a  land  where,  if  all  be  true,  there  are  no  mate- 
rialisations and  the  making  of  new  creeds  is  dis- 
couraged. 

But  consider  the  gorgeous  simplicity  of  it  all ! 


160 


I 


THROUGH  THE  FIRE 

The  Policeman  rode  through  the  Himalayan  forest, 
under  the  moss-draped  oaks,  and  his  orderly  trotted 
after  him. 

"  It's  an  ugly  business,  Bhere  Singh,"  said  the 
Policeman.    "  Where  are  they  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  very  ugly  business,"  said  Bhere  Singh ; 
"  and  as  for  them^  they  are,  doubtless,  now  frying 
in  a  hotter  fire  than  was  ever  made  of  spruce- 
branches." 

"  Let  us  hope  not,"  said  the  Policeman,  "  for,  al- 
lowing for  the  difference  between  race  and  race, 
it's  the  story  of  Francesca  da  Rimini,  Bhere  Singh." 

Bhere  Singh  knew  nothing  about  Francesca  da 
Rimini,  so  he  held  his  peace  until  they  came  to 
the  charcoal-burners'  clearing  where  the  dying 
flames  said  '-'whit^  whit^  whiV  as  they  fluttered 
and  whispered  over  the  white  ashes.  It  must  have 
been  a  great  fire  when  at  full  height.  Men  had 
seen  it  at  Donga  Pa  across  the  valley  winking  and 
blazing  through  the  night,  and  said  that  the  char- 
coal-burners of  Kodru  were  getting  drunk.  But 
it  was  only  Suket  Singh,  Sepoy  of  the  io2d  Pun- 


Copyright,  1891,  by  Macmillan  &  Co. 

161 


t 

IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


jab  Native  Infantry,  and  Athira,  a  woman,  burn- 
ing —  burning  — burning. 

This  was  how  things  befell;  and  the  Police- 
man's Diary  will  bear  me  out. 

Athira  was  the  wife  of  Madu,  who  was  a  char- 
coal-burner, one-eyed  and  of  a  malignant  disposi- 
tion. A  week  after  their  marriage,  he  beat  Athira 
with  a  heavy  stick.  A  month  later,  Suket  Singh, 
Sepoy,  came  that  way  to  the  cool  hills  on  leave 
from  his  regiment,  and  electrified  the  villagers  of 
Kodru  with  tales  of  service  and  glory  under  the 
Government,  and  the  honour  in  which  he,  Suket 
Singh,  was  held  by  the  Colonel  Sahib  Bahadur. 
And  Desdemona  listened  to  Othello  as  Desde- 
monas  have  done  all  the  world  over,  and,  as  she 
listened,  she  loved. 

"  I've  a  wife  of  my  own,"  said  Suket  Singh, 
"  though  that  is  no  matter  when  you  come  to  think 
of  it.  I  am  also  due  to  return  to  my  regiment 
after  a  time,  and  I  cannot  be  a  deserter  —  I  who 
intend  to  be  Havildar."  There  is  no  Himalayan 
version  of  "  I  could  not  love  thee,  dear,  as  much. 
Loved  I  not  Honour  more " ;  but  Suket  Singh 
came  near  to  making  one. 

"Never  mind,"  said  Athira,  "stay  with  me,  and, 
if  Madu  tries  to  beat  me,  you  beat  him." 

"Very  good,"  said  Suket  Singh;  and  he  beat 
Madu  severely,  to  the  delight  of  all  the  charcoal- 
burners  of  Kodru. 

162 


THROUGH  THE  FIRE 


"That  is  enough,"  said  Suket  Singh,  as  he  rolled 
Madu  down  the  hillside.  "Now  we  shall  have 
peace."  But  Madu  crawled  up  the  grass  slope 
again,  and  hovered  round  his  hut  with  angry  eyes. 

"He'll  kill  me  dead,"  said  Athira  to  Suket 
Singh.    "  You  must  take  me  away." 

"  There'll  be  a  trouble  in  the  Lines.  My  wife 
will  pull  out  my  beard;  but  never  mind,"  said 
Suket  Singh,  "  I  will  take  you." 

There  was  loud  trouble  in  the  Lines,  and  Suket 
Singh's  beard  was  pulled,  and  Suket  Singh's  wife 
went  to  live  with  her  mother  and  took  away  the 
children.  "That's  all  right,"  said  Athira;  and 
Suket  Singh  said,  "  Yes,  that's  all  right." 

So  there  was  only  Madu  left  in  the  hut  that 
looks  across  the  valley  to  Donga  Pa;  and,  since 
the  beginning  of  time,  no  one  has  had  any  sym- 
pathy for  husbands  so  unfortunate  as  Madu. 

He  went  to  Juseen  Daze,  the  wizard-man  who 
keeps  the  Talking  Monkey's  Head. 

"  Get  me  back  my  wife,"  said  Madu. 

"  I  can't,"  said  Juseen  Daze,  "  until  you  have 
made  the  Sutlej  in  the  valley  run  up  the  Donga  Pa." 

"No  riddles,"  said  Madu,  and  he  shook  his 
hatchet  above  Juseen  Daze's  white  head. 

"Give  all  your  money  to  the  headmen  of  the 
village,"  said  Juseen  Daze ;  "  and  they  will  hold 
a  communal  Council,  and  the  Council  will  send 
a  message  that  your  wife  must  come  back." 

163 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


So  Madu  gave  up  all  his  worldly  wealth, 
amounting  to  twenty-seven  rupees,  eight  annas, 
three  pice,  and  a  silver  chain,  to  the  Council  of 
Kodru.    And  it  fell  as  Juseen  Daze  foretold. 

They  sent  Athira's  brother  down  into  Suket 
Singh's  regiment  to  call  Athira  home.  Suket 
Singh  kicked  him  once  round  the  Lines,  and  then 
handed  him  over  to  the  Havildar,  who  beat  him 
with  a  belt. 

"  Come  back,"  yelled  Athira's  brother. 

"  Where  to "  said  Athira. 

"  To  Madu,"  said  he. 

"  Never,"  said  she. 

"  Then  Juseen  Daze  will  send  a  curse,  and  you 
will  wither  away  like  a  barked  tree  in  the  spring- 
time," said  Athira's  brother.  Athira  slept  over 
these  things. 

Next  morning  she  had  rheumatism.  "  I  am 
beginning  to  wither  away  like  a  barked  tree  in 
the  springtime,"  she  said.  "  That  is  the  curse  of 
Juseen  Daze." 

And  she  really  began  to  wither  away  because 
her  heart  was  dried  up  with  fear,  and  those  who 
believe  in  curses  die  from  curses.  Suket  Singh, 
too,  was  afraid  because  he  loved  Athira  better  than 
his  very  life.  Two  months  passed,  and  Athira's 
brother  stood  outside  the  regimental  Lines  again 
and  yelped,  "Aha!  You  are  withering  away 
Come  back." 

164. 


THROUGH  THE  FIRE 


"  I  will  come  back,"  said  Athira. 
"  Say  rather  that  we  will  come  back/*  said  Suket 
Singh. 

"  Ai ;  but  when  ?  "  said  Athira's  brother. 

"  Upon  a  day  very  early  in  the  morning,"  said 
Suket  Singh ;  and  he  tramped  off  to  apply  to  the 
Colonel  Sahib  Bahadur  for  one  week's  leave. 

"  I  am  withering  away  like  a  barked  tree  in  the 
spring,"  moaned  Athira. 

"  You  will  be  better  soon,"  said  Suket  Singh ; 
and  he  told  her  what  was  in  his  heart,  and  the 
two  laughed  together  softly,  for  they  loved  each 
other.    But  Athira  grew  better  from  that  hour. 

They  went  away  together,  travelling  third-class 
by  train  as  the  regulations  provided,  and  then  in 
a  cart  to  the  low  hills,  and  on  foot  to  the  high 
ones.  Athira  sniffed  the  scent  of  the  pines  of  her 
own  hills,  the  wet  Himalayan  hills.  "  It  is  good 
to  be  alive,"  said  Athira. 

"Hah!"  said  Suket  Singh.  "Where  is  the 
Kodru  road  and  where  is  the  Forest  Ranger's 
house'?"  .  .  . 

"  It  cost  forty  rupees  twelve  years  ago,"  said 
the  Forest  Ranger,  handing  the  gun. 

"  Here  are  twenty,"  said  Suket  Singh,  "  and 
you  must  give  me  the  best  bullets." 

"  It  is  very  good  to  be  alive,"  said  Athira  wist- 
fully, sniffing  the  scent  of  the  pine-mould;  and 
they  waited  till  the  night  had  fallen  upon  Kodru 

i6j 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


and  the  Donga  Pa.  Madu  had  stacked  the  dry 
wood  for  the  next  day's  charcoal-burning  on  the 
spur  above  his  house.  "  It  is  courteous  in  Madu 
to  save  us  this  trouble,"  said  Suket  Singh  as  he 
stumbled  on  the  pile,  which  was  twelve  foot 
square  and  four  high.  "  We  must  wait  till  the 
moon  rises." 

When  the  moon  rose,  Athira  knelt  upon  the 
pile.  "  If  it  were  only  a  Government  Snider," 
said  Suket  Singh  ruefully,  squinting  down  the 
wire-bound  barrel  of  the  Forest  Ranger's  gun. 

"  Be  quick,"  said  Athira ;  and  Suket  Singh  was 
quick ;  but  Athira  was  quick  no  longer.  Then  he 
lit  the  pile  at  the  four  corners  and  climbed  on  to 
it,  reloading  the  gun. 

The  little  flames  began  to  peer  up  between  the  big 
logs  atop  of  the  brushwood.  "  The  Government 
should  teach  us  to  pull  the  triggers  with  our  toes," 
said  Suket  Singh  grimly  to  the  moon.  That  was 
the  last  public  observation  of  Sepoy  Suket  Singh. 

Upon  a  day,  early  in  the  morning,  Madu  came 
to  the  pyre  and  shrieked  very  grievously,  and  ran 
away  to  catch  the  Policeman  who  was  on  tour  in 
the  district. 

"  The  base-born  has  ruined  four  rupees'  worth 
of  charcoal  wood,"  Madu  gasped.  "  He  has  also 
killed  my  wife,  and  he  has  left  a  letter  which  I 
cannot  read,  tied  to  a  pine  bough." 

166 


THROUGH  THE  FIRE 

In  the  stiff,  formal  hand  taught  in  the  regimental 
school,  Sepoy  Suket  Singh  had  written  — 

"  Let  us  be  burned  together,  if  anything  remain 
over,  for  we  have  made  the  necessary  prayers. 
We  have  also  cursed  Madu,  and  Malak  the 
brother  of  Athira  — both  evil  men.  Send  my 
service  to  the  Colonel  Sahib  Bahadur." 

The  Policeman  looked  long  and  curiously  at  the 
marriage-bed  of  red  and  white  ashes  on  which  lay, 
dull  black,  the  barrel  of  the  Ranger's  gun.  He 
drove  his  spurred  heel  absently  into  a  half-charred 
log,  and  the  chattering  sparks  flew  upwards. 
"  Most  extraordinary  people,"  said  the  Policeman. 

"  IVhe-w^  wheuu\  ouiou^'  said  the  little  flames. 

The  Policeman  entered  the  dry  bones  of  the  case, 
for  the  Punjab  Government  does  not  approve  of 
romancing,  in  his  Diary. 

"  But  who  will  pay  me  those  four  rupees  ?  "  said 
Madu. 


167 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


There's  a  convict  more  in  the  Central  Jail, 

Behind  the  old  mud  wall ; 
There's  a  lifter  less  on  the  Border  trail. 
And  the  Queen's  Peace  over  all. 

Dear  boys. 
The  Queen's  Peace  over  all. 

For  we  must  bear  our  leader's  blame. 

On  us  the  shame  will  fall. 
If  we  lift  our  hand  from  a  fettered  land. 
And  the  Queen's  Peace  over  all. 

Dear  boys. 
The  Queen's  Peace  over  all  ! 

The  Running  of  Shin  dan  d. 


I 

The  Indus  had  risen  in  flood  without  warning. 
Last  night  it  was  a  fordable  shallow ;  to-night  five 
miles  of  raving  muddy  water  parted  bank  and 
caving  bank,  and  the  river  was  still  rising  under 
the  moon.  A  litter  borne  by  six  bearded  men,  all 
unused  to  the  work,  stopped  in  the  white  sand  that 
bordered  the  whiter  plain. 

"It's  God's  will,"  they  said.     "We  dare  not 
J  68 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


cross  to-night,  even  in  a  boat.  Let  us  light  a  fire 
and  cook  food.    We  be  tired  men." 

They  looked  at  the  litter  inquiringly.  Within, 
the  Deputy  Commissioner  of  the  Kot-Kumharsen 
district  lay  dying  of  fever.  They  had  brought 
him  across  country,  six  fighting-men  of  a  frontier 
clan  that  he  had  won  over  to  the  paths  of  a  moder- 
ate righteousness,  when  he  had  broken  down  at  the 
foot  of  their  inhospitable  hills.  And  Tallantire, 
his  assistant,  rode  with  them,  heavy-hearted  as 
heavy-eyed  with  sorrow  and  lack  of  sleep.  He 
had  served  under  the  sick  man  for  three  years,  and 
had  learned  to  love  him  as  men  associated  in  toil 
of  the  hardest  learn  to  love  —  or  hate.  Dropping 
from  his  horse,  he  parted  the  curtains  of  the  litter 
and  peered  inside. 

"  Orde  —  Orde,  old  man,  can  you  hear  ?  We 
have  to  wait  till  the  river  goes  down,  worse  luck." 

"  I  hear,'*  returned  a  dry  whisper.  "  Wait  till 
the  river  goes  down.  I  thought  we  should  reach 
camp  before  the  dawn.  Polly  knows.  She'll 
meet  me." 

One  of  the  litter-men  stared  across  the  river  and 
caught  a  faint  twinkle  of  light  on  the  far  side.  He 
whispered  to  Tallantire,  "  There  are  his  camp-fires, 
and  his  wife.  They  will  cross  in  the  morning,  for 
they  have  better  boats.    Can  he  live  so  long  ?  " 

Tallantire  shook  his  head.  Yardley-Orde  was 
very  near  to  death.    What  need  to  vex  his  soul 

169 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


with  hopes  of  a  meeting  that  could  not  be  ?  The 
river  gulped  at  the  banks,  brought  down  a  cliff  of 
sand,  and  snarled  the  more  hungrily.  The  litter- 
men  sought  for  fuel  in  the  waste  —  dried  camel- 
thorn  and  refuse  of  the  camps  that  had  waited  at 
the  ford.  Their  sword-belts  clinked  as  they  moved 
softly  in  the  haze  of  the  moonlight,  and  Tallan- 
tire's  horse  coughed  to  explain  that  he  would  like 
a  blanket. 

"  I'm  cold  too,"  said  the  voice  from  the  litter, 
"  I  fancy  this  is  the  end.    Poor  Polly !  " 

Tallantire  rearranged  the  blankets ;  Khoda  Dad 
Khan,  seeing  this,  stripped  off  his  own  heavy- 
wadded  sheepskin  coat  and  added  it  to  the  pile. 
"  I  shall  be  warm  by  the  fire  presently,"  said  he, 
Tallantire  took  the  wasted  body  of  his  chief  into 
his  arms  and  held  it  against  his  breast.  Perhaps 
if  they  kept  him  very  warm  Orde  might  live  to 
see  his  wife  once  more.  If  only  blind  Providence 
would  send  a  three-foot  fall  in  the  river  I 

"  That's  better,"  said  Orde  faintly.  "  Sorry  to 
be  a  nuisance,  but  is  —  is  there  anything  to  drink  ?  " 

They  gave  him  milk  and  whiskey,  and  Tallan- 
tire felt  a  little  warmth  against  his  own  breast. 
Orde  began  to  mutter. 

"  It  isn't  that  I  mind  dying,"  he  said.  "  It's 
leaving  Polly  and  the  district.  Thank  God  I  we 
have  no  children.  Dick,  you  know,  I'm  dipped — 
awfully  dipped  —  debts  in  my  first  five  years'  ser^^ 

170 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


vice.  It  isn't  much  of  a  pension,  but  enough  for 
her.  She  has  her  mother  at  home.  Getting  there 
is  the  difficulty.  And  —  and — you  see,  not  being 
a  soldier's  wife  " 

"  We'll  arrange  the  passage  home,  of  course," 
said  Tallantire  quietly. 

"  It's  not  nice  to  think  of  sending  round  the 
hat;  but,  good  Lord!  how  many  men  I  lie  here 
and  remember  that  had  to  do  it!  Morten's  dead 
—  he  was  of  my  year.  Shaughnessy  is  dead,  and 
he  had  children ;  I  remember  he  used  to  read  us 
their  school-letters ;  what  a  bore  we  thought  him ! 
Evans  is  dead  —  Kot-Kumharsen  killed  him! 
Ricketts  of  Myndonie  is  dead  —  and  I'm  going 
too.  '  Man  that  is  born  of  a  woman  is  small  po- 
tatoes and  few  in  the  hill.'  That  reminds  me, 
Dick ;  the  four  Khusru  Kheyl  villages  in  our  bor- 
der want  a  one-third  remittance  this  spring.  That's 
fair ;  their  crops  are  bad.  See  that  they  get  it,  and 
speak  to  Ferris  about  the  canal.  I  should  like  to 
have  lived  till  that  was  finished ;  it  means  so  much 
for  the  North-Indus  villages  —  but  Ferris  is  an 
idle  beggar — wake  him  up.  You'll  have  charge 
of  the  district  till  my  successor  comes.  I  wish 
they  would  appoint  you  permanently;  you  know 
the  folk.  I  suppose  it  will  be  BuUows,  though. 
*Good  man,  but  too  weak  for  frontier  work ;  and 
he  doesn't  understand  the  priests.  The  blind  priest 
at  Jagai  will  bear  watching.     You'll  find  it  in 

171 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


my  papers, —  in  the  uniform-case,  I  think.  Call 
the  Khusru  Kheyl  men  up ;  I'll  hold  my  last  pub- 
lic audience.    Khoda  Dad  Khan ! " 

The  leader  of  the  men  sprang  to  the  side  of  the 
litter,  his  companions  following. 

"  Men,  I'm  dying,"  said  Orde  quickly,  in  the 
vernacular ;  "  and  soon  there  will  be  no  more  Orde 
Sahib  to  twist  your  tails  and  prevent  you  from 
raiding  cattle." 

"God  forbid  this  thing  I"  broke  out  the 
deep  bass  chorus;  "The  Sahib  is  not  going  to 
die." 

"Yes,  he  is;  and  then  he  will  know  whether 
Mahomed  speaks  truth,  or  Moses.  But  you  must 
be  good  men  when  I  am  not  here.  Such  of  you 
as  live  in  our  borders  must  pay  your  taxes  quietly 
as  before.  I  have  spoken  of  the  villages  to  be 
gently  treated  this  year.  Such  of  you  as  live  in 
the  hills  must  refrain  from  cattle-lifting,  and  burn 
no  more  thatch,  and  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  the  voice 
of  the  priests,  who,  not  knowing  the  strength  of 
the  Government,  would  lead  you  into  foolish  wars, 
wherein  you  will  surely  die  and  your  crops  be 
eaten  by  strangers.  And  you  must  not  sack  any 
caravans,  and  must  leave  your  arms  at  the  police- 
post  when  you  come  in ;  as  has  been  your  custom, 
and  my  order.  And  Tallantire  Sahib  will  be  with 
you,  but  I  do  not  know  who  takes  my  place.  I 
speak  now  true  talk,  for  I  am  as  it  were  already 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


dead,  my  children, — for  though  ye  be  strong  men, 
ye  are  children." 

"And  thou  art  our  father  and  our  mother," 
broke  in  Khoda  Dad  Khan  with  an  oath.  "  What 
shall  we  do,  now  there  is  no  one  to  speak  for  us, 
or  to  teach  us  to  go  wisely ! " 

"  There  remains  Tallantire  Sahib.  Go  to  him; 
he  knows  your  talk  and  your  heart.  Keep  the 
young  men  quiet,  listen  to  the  old  men,  and  obey. 
Khoda  Dad  Khan,  take  my  ring.  The  watch  and 
chain  go  to  thy  brother.  Keep  those  things  for 
my  sake,  and  I  will  speak  to  whatever  God  I  may 
encounter  and  tell  him  that  the  Khusru  Kheyl  are 
good  men.    Ye  have  my  leave  to  go.'* 

Khoda  Dad  Khan,  the  ring  upon  his  finger, 
choked  audibly  as  he  caught  the  well-known  for- 
mula that  closed  an  interview.  His  brother  turned 
to  look  across  the  river.  The  dawn  was  breaking, 
and  a  speck  of  white  showed  on  the  dull  silver  of 
the  stream.  "  She  comes,"  said  the  man  under  his 
breath.  "  Can  he  live  for  another  two  hours  ?  " 
And  he  pulled  the  newly-acquired  watch  out  of 
his  belt  and  looked  uncomprehendingly  at  the 
dial,  as  he  had  seen  Englishmen  do. 

For  two  hours  the  bellying  sail  tacked  and  blun- 
dered up  and  down  the  river,  Tallantire  still  clasp- 
ing Orde  in  his  arms,  and  Khoda  Dad  Khan 
chafing  his  feet.  He  spoke  now  and  again  of  the 
district  and  his  wife,  but,  as  the  end  neared,  more 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


frequently  of  the  latter.  They  hoped  he  did 
not  know  that  she  was  even  then  risking  her  life 
in  a  crazy  native  boat  to  regain  him.  But  the 
awful  foreknowledge  of  the  dying  deceived  them. 
Wrenching  himself  forward,  Orde  looked  through 
the  curtains  and  saw  how  near  was  the  sail  "  That's 
Polly,"  he  said  simply,  though  his  mouth  was 
wried  with  agony.  "Polly  and  —  the  grimmest 
practical  joke  ever  played  on  a  man.  Dick  — 
you'll  —  have  —  to  —  explain." 

And  an  hour  later  Tallantire  met  on  the  bank  a 
woman  in  a  gingham  riding-habit  and  a  sun-hat 
who  cried  out  to  him  for  her  husband  —  her  boy 
and  her  darling  —  while  Khoda  Dad  Khan  threw 
himself  face-down  on  the  sand  and  covered  his 
eyes. 

II 

The  very  simplicity  of  the  notion  was  its  charm. 
What  more  easy  to  win  a  reputation  for  far-seeing 
statesmanship,  originality,  and,  above  all,  defer- 
ence to  the  desires  of  the  people,  than  by  appoint- 
ing a  child  of  the  country  to  the  rule  of  that 
country?  Two  hundred  millions  of  the  most 
loving  and  grateful  folk  under  Her  Majesty's  do- 
minion would  laud  the  fact,  and  their  praise  would 
endure  for  ever.  Yet  he  was  indifferent  to  praise 
or  blame,  as  befitted  the  Very  Greatest  of  All  the 
Viceroys.    His  administration  was  based  upon 

174 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


principle,  and  the  principle  must  be  enforced  in 
season  and  out  of  season.  His  pen  and  tongue 
had  created  the  New  India,  teeming  with  possi- 
bilities—  loud-voiced,  insistent,  a  nation  among 
nations  —  all  his  very  own.  Wherefore  the  Very- 
Greatest  of  All  the  Viceroys  took  another  step  in 
advance,  and  with  it  counsel  of  those  who  should 
have  advised  him  on  the  appointment  of  a  suc- 
cessor to  Yardley-Orde.  There  was  a  gentleman 
and  a  member  of  the  Bengal  Civil  Service  who 
had  won  his  place  and  a  university  degree  to  boot 
in  fair  and  open  competition  with  the  sons  of  the 
English.  He  was  cultured,  of  the  world,  and,  if 
report  spoke  truly,  had  wisely  and,  above  all,  sym- 
pathetically ruled  a  crowded  district  in  South- 
Eastern  Bengal.  He  had  been  to  England  and 
charmed  many  drawing-rooms  there.  His  name, 
if  the  Viceroy  recollected  aright,  was  Mr.  Grish 
Chunder  De,  M.  A.  In  short,  did  anybody  see 
any  objection  to  the  appointment,  always  on  prin- 
ciple, of  a  man  of  the  people  to  rule  the  people  ? 
The  district  in  South-Eastern  Bengal  might  with 
advantage,  he  apprehended,  pass  over  to  a  younger 
civilian  of  Mr.  G.  C.  De's  nationality  (who  had 
written  a  remarkably  clever  pamphlet  on  the  po- 
litical value  of  sympathy  in  administration) ;  and 
Mr.  G.  C.  De  could  be  transferred  northward  to 
Kot-Kumharsen.  The  Viceroy  was  averse,  on 
principle,  to  interfering  with  appointments  under 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


control  of  the  Provincial  Governments.  He  wished 
it  to  be  understood  that  he  merely  recommended 
and  advised  in  this  instance.  As  regarded  the 
mere  question  of  race,  Mr.  Grish  Chunder  De 
was  more  English  than  the  English,  and  yet  pos- 
sessed of  that  peculiar  sympathy  and  insight  which 
the  best  among  the  best  Service  in  the  world  could 
only  win  to  at  the  end  of  their  service. 

The  stern,  black-bearded  kings  who  sit  about 
the  Council-board  of  India  divided  on  the  step, 
with  the  inevitable  result  of  driving  the  Very 
Greatest  of  All  the  Viceroys  into  the  borders  of 
hysteria,  and  a  bewildered  obstinacy  pathetic  as 
that  of  a  child. 

"  The  principle  is  sound  enough,"  said  the 
weary-eyed  Head  of  the  Red  Provinces  in  which 
Kot-Kumharsen  lay,  for  he  too  held  theories. 
"The  only  difficulty  is  " 

"  Put  the  screw  on  the  District  officials ;  brigade 
De  with  a  very  strong  Deputy  Commissioner  on 
each  side  of  him ;  give  him  the  best  assistant  in 
the  Province;  rub  the  fear  of  God  into  the  people 
beforehand ;  and  if  anything  goes  wrong,  say  that 
his  colleagues  didn't  back  him  up.  All  these 
lovely  little  experiments  recoil  on  the  District- 
Officer  in  the  end,"  said  the  Knight  of  the  Drawn 
Sword  with  a  truthful  brutality  that  made  the 
Head  of  the  Red  Provinces  shudder.  And  on  a 
tacit  understanding  of  this  kind  the  transfer  was 

176 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


accomplished,  as  quietly  as  might  be  for  many 
reasons. 

It  is  sad  to  think  that  what  goes  for  public 
opinion  in  India  did  not  generally  see  the  wisdom 
of  the  Viceroy's  appointment.  There  were  not 
lacking  indeed  hireling  organs,  notoriously  in  the 
pay  of  a  tyrannous  bureaucracy,  who  more  than 
hinted  that  His  Excellency  was  a  fool,  a  dreamer 
of  dreams,  a  doctrinaire,  and,  worst  of  all,  a  trifler 
with  the  lives  of  men.  "  The  Viceroy's  Excel- 
lence Gazette,"  published  in  Calcutta,  was  at  pains 
to  thank  "Our  beloved  Viceroy  for  once  more 
and  again  thus  gloriously  vindicating  the  poten- 
tialities of  the  Bengali  nations  for  extended  ex- 
ecutive and  administrative  duties  in  foreign  parts 
beyond  our  ken.  We  do  not  at  all  doubt  that 
our  excellent  fellow-townsman,  Mr.  Grish  Chun- 
der  De,  Esq.,  M.  A.,  will  uphold  the  prestige  of 
the  Bengali,  notwithstanding  what  underhand  in- 
trigue and  peshhundi  may  be  set  on  foot  to  insidi- 
ously nip  his  fame  and  blast  his  prospects  among 
the  proud  civilians,  some  of  which  will  now  have 
to  serve  under  a  despised  native  and  takq  orders 
too.  How  will  you  like  that.  Misters'?  We 
entreat  our  beloved  Viceroy  still  to  substantiate 
himself  superiorly  to  race-prejudice  and  colour- 
blindness, and  to  allow  the  flower  of  this  now  our 
Civil  Service  all  the  full  pays  and  allowances 
granted  to  his  more  fortunate  brethren." 

177 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


III 

"  When  does  this  man  take  over  charge  ^  I'm 
alone  just  now,  and  I  gather  that  I'm  to  stand  fast 
under  him." 

"Would  you  have  cared  for  a  transfer?"  said 
Bullows  keenly.  Then,  laying  his  hand  on  Tal- 
lantire's  shoulder :  "  We're  all  in  the  same  boat ; 
don't  desert  us.  And  yet,  why  the  devil  should 
you  stay,  if  you  can  get  another  charge  ?  " 

"  It  was  Orde's,"  said  Tallantire  simply. 

"  Well,  it's  De's  now.  He's  a  Bengali  of  the 
Bengalis,  crammed  with  code  and  case  law;  a 
beautiful  man  so  far  as  routine  and  deskwork  go, 
and  pleasant  to  talk  to.  They  naturally  have  al- 
ways kept  him  in  his  own  home  district,  where  all 
his  sisters  and  his  cousins  and  his  aunts  lived, 
somewhere  south  of  Dacca.  He  did  no  more  than 
turn  the  place  into  a  pleasant  little  family  preserve, 
allowed  his  subordinates  to  do  what  they  liked,  and 
let  everybody  have  a  chance  at  the  shekels.  Con- 
sequently he's  immensely  popular  down  there." 

"  I've  nothing  to  do  with  that.  How  on  earth 
am  I  to  explain  to  the  district  that  they  are  going 
to  be  governed  by  a  Bengali  ?  Do  you  —  does 
the  Government,  I  mean  —  suppose  that  the 
Khusru  Kheyl  will  sit  quiet  when  they  once  know? 
What  will  the  Mahomedan  heads  of  villages  say? 
How  will  the  police  —  Muzbi  Sikhs  and  Pathans 

178 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


—  how  will  they  work  under  him  ?  We  couldn't 
say  anything  if  the  Government  appointed  a 
sweeper ;  but  my  people  will  say  a  good  deal,  you 
know  that.    It's  a  piece  of  cruel  folly !  " 

"  My  dear  boy,  I  know  all  that,  and  more.  I've 
represented  it,  and  have  been  told  that  I  am  ex- 
hibiting 'culpable  and  puerile  prejudice.'  By 
Jove,  if  the  Khusru  Kheyl  don't  exhibit  some- 
thing worse  than  that  I  don't  know  the  Border ! 
The  chances  are  that  you  will  have  the  district 
alight  on  your  hands,  and  I  shall  have  to  leave 
my  work  and  help  you  pull  through.  I  needn't 
ask  you  to  stand  by  the  Bengali  man  in  every  pos- 
sible way.    You'll  do  that  for  your  own  sake." 

"  For  Orde's.  I  can't  say  that  I  care  twopence 
personally." 

"Don't  be  an  ass.  It's  grievous  enough,  God 
knows,  and  the  Government  will  know  later  on; 
but  that's  no  reason  for  your  sulking.  Tou  must 
try  to  run  the  district ;  you  must  stand  between  him 
and  as  much  insult  as  possible ;  you  must  show  him 
the  ropes ;  you  must  pacify  the  Khusru  Kheyl,  and 
just  warn  Curbar  of  the  Police  to  look  out  for  trou- 
ble by  the  way.  I'm  always  at  the  end  of  a  tele- 
graph-wire, and  willing  to  peril  my  reputation  to 
hold  the  district  together.  You'll  lose  yours,  of 
course.  If  you  keep  things  straight,  and  he  isn't 
actually  beaten  with  a  stick  when  he's  on  tour, 
he'll  get  all  the  credit.    If  anything  goes  wrong, 

179 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


you'll  be  told  that  you  didn't  support  him 
loyally." 

"  I  know  what  I've  got  to  do,"  said  Tallantire 
wearily,  "  and  I'm  going  to  do  it.    But  it's  hard.'* 

"  The  work  is  with  us,  the  event  is  with  Allah, 
— as  Orde  used  to  say  when  he  was  more  than 
usually  in  hot  water."    And  Bui  lows  rode  away. 

That  two  gentlemen  in  Her  Majesty's  Bengal 
Civil  Service  should  thus  discuss  a  third,  also  in 
that  service,  and  a  cultured  and  affable  man  withal, 
seems  strange  and  saddening.  Yet  listen  to  the 
artless  babble  of  the  Blind  Mullah  of  Jagai,  the 
priest  of  the  Khusru  Kheyl,  sitting  upon  a  rock 
overlooking  the  Borden  Five  years  before,  a 
chance-hurled  shell  from  a  screw-gun  battery  had 
dashed  earth  in  the  face  of  the  Mullah,  then  urg- 
ing a  rush  of  Ghazis  against  half  a  dozen  British 
bayonets.  So  he  became  blind,  and  hated  the 
English  none  the  less  for  the  little  accident. 
Yardely-Orde  knew  his  failing,  and  had  many 
times  laughed  at  him  therefor. 

"  Dogs  you  are,"  said  the  Blind  Mullah  to  the 
listening  tribesmen  round  the  fire.  "Whipped  dogs! 
Because  you  listened  to  Orde  Sahib  and  called 
him  father  and  behaved  as  his  children,  the  British 
Government  have  proven  how  they  regard  you. 
Orde  Sahib  ye  know  is  dead." 

"  Ai !  ai !  ai ! "  said  half  a  dozen  voices. 

"  He  was  a  man.  Comes  now  in  his  stead,  whom 
1 80 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


think  ye  ?  A  Bengali  of  Bengal  —  an  eater  of  fish 
from  the  South." 

"  A  lie !  "  said  Khoda  Dad  Khan.  "  And  but 
for  the  small  matter  of  thy  priesthood,  I'd  drive 
my  gun,  butt  first,  down  thy  throat." 

"  Oho,  art  thou  there,  lickspittle  of  the  English? 
Go  in  to-morrow  across  the  Border  to  pay  service 
to  Orde  Sahib  s  successor,  and  thou  shalt  slip  thy 
shoes  at  the  tent-door  of  a  Bengali,  as  thou  shalt 
hand  thy  offering  to  a  Bengali's  black  fist.  This 
I  know  ;  and  in  my  youth,  when  a  young  man 
spoke  evil  to  a  Mullah  holding  the  doors  of 
Heaven  and  Hell,  the  gun-butt  was  not  rammed 
down  the  Mullah's  gullet.    No  I  " 

The  Blind  Mullah  hated  Khoda  Dad  Khan  with 
Afghan  hatred,  both  being  rivals  for  the  headship 
of  the  tribe ;  but  the  latter  was  feared  for  bodily  as 
the  other  for  spiritual  gifts.  Khoda  Dad  Khan 
looked  at  Orde's  ring  and  grunted,  "  I  go  in  to- 
morrow because  I  am  not  an  old  fool,  preaching 
war  against  the  English.  If  the  Government, 
smitten  with  madness,  have  done  this,  then  .  . 

"  Then,"  croaked  the  Mullah,  "  thou  wilt  take 
out  the  young  men  and  strike  at  the  four  villages 
within  the  Border  ?  " 

"  Or  wring  thy  neck,  black  raven  of  Jehannum, 
for  a  bearer  of  ill-tidings." 

Khoda  Dad  Khan  oiled  his  long  locks  with 
great  care,  put  on  his  best  Bokhara  belt,  a  new 

181 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 

turban-cap  and  fine  green  shoes,  and  accompanied 
by  a  few  friends  came  down  from  the  hills  to  pay 
a  visit  to  the  new  Deputy  Commissioner  of  Kot- 
Kumharsen.  Also  he  bore  tribute  —  four  or  five 
priceless  gold  mohurs  of  Akbar's  time  in  a  white 
handkerchief  These  the  Deputy  Commissioner 
would  touch  and  remit.  The  little  ceremony 
used  to  be  a  sign  that,  so  far  as  Khoda  Dad  Khan's 
personal  influence  went,  the  Khusru  Kheyl  would 
be  good  boys, —  till  the  next  time;  especially  if 
Khoda  Dad  Khan  happened  to  like  the  new 
Deputy  Commissioner.  In  Yardely-Orde's  consul- 
ship his  visit  concluded  with  a  sumptuous  dinner 
and  perhaps  forbidden  liquors ;  certainly  with  some 
wonderful  tales  and  great  good-fellowship.  Then 
Khoda  Dad  Khan  would  swagger  back  to  his  hold, 
vowing  that  Orde  Sahib  was  one  prince  and  Tallan- 
tire  Sahib  another,  and  that  whosoever  went  a-raid- 
ing  into  British  territory  would  be  flayed  alive.  On 
this  occasion  he  found  the  Deputy  Commissioner's 
tents  looking  much  as  usual.  Regarding  himself 
as  privileged,  he  strode  through  the  open  door  to 
confront  a  suave,  portly  Bengali  in  English  cos- 
tume, writing  at  a  table.  Unversed  in  the  elevat- 
ing influence  of  education,  and  not  in  the  least 
caring  for  university  degrees,  Khoda  Dad  Khan 
promptly  set  the  man  down  for  a  Babu  —  the 
native  clerk  of  the  Deputy  Commissioner  —  a 
hated  and  despised  animal. 

182 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


"  Ugh  I  "  said  he  cheerfully.  "  Where's  your 
master,  Babujee  " 

"  I  am  the  Deputy  Commissioner,"  said  the 
gentleman  in  English. 

Now  he  overvalued  the  effects  of  university  de- 
grees, and  stared  Khoda  Dad  Khan  in  the  face. 
But  if  from  your  earliest  infancy  you  have  been 
accustomed  to  look  on  battle,  murder,  and  sudden 
death,  if  spilt  blood  affects  your  nerves  as  much 
as  red  paint,  and,  above  all,  if  you  have  faithfully 
believed  that  the  Bengali  was  the  servant  of  all 
Hindustan,  and  that  all  Hindustan  was  vastly  in- 
ferior to  your  own  large,  lustful  self,  you  can 
endure,  even  though  uneducated,  a  very  large 
amount  of  looking  over.  You  can  even  stare 
down  a  graduate  of  an  Oxford  college  if  the  latter 
has  been  born  in  a  hothouse,  of  stock  bred  in  a 
hothouse,  and  fearing  physical  pain  as  some  men 
fear  sin ;  especially  if  your  opponent's  mother  has 
frightened  him  to  sleep  in  his  youth  with  horrible 
stories  of  devils  inhabiting  Afghanistan,  and  dis- 
mal legends  of  the  black  North.  The  eyes  be- 
hind the  gold  spectacles  sought  the  floor.  Khoda 
Dad  Khan  chuckled,  and  swung  out  to  find  Tal- 
lantire  hard  by.  "  Here,"  said  he  roughly,  thrust- 
ing the  coins  before  him,  "  touch  and  remit.  That 
answers  for  my  good  behaviour.  But,  O  Sahib, 
has  the  Government  gone  mad  to  send  a  black 
Bengali  dog  to  us  ?    And  am  I  to  pay  service  to 

183 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


such  an  one  ?  And  are  you  to  work  under  him  *? 
What  does  it  mean  ?  " 

"  It  is  an  order,"  said  Tallantire.  He  had  ex- 
pected something  of  this  kind.  "  He  is  a  very 
clever  S-sahib." 

"  He  a  Sahib !  He's  a  kala  admi —  a  black  man 
- —  unfit  to  run  at  the  tail  of  a  potter's  donkey. 
All  the  peoples  of  the  earth  have  harried  Bengal. 
It  is  written.  Thou  knowest  when  we  of  the 
North  wanted  women  or  plunder  whither  went  we  ? 
To  Bengal  —  where  else  ?  What  child's  talk  is 
this  of  Sahibdom  —  after  Orde  Sahib  too !  Of  a 
truth  the  Blind  Mullah  was  right." 

"  What  of  him  "  asked  Tallantire  uneasily. 
He  mistrusted  that  old  man  with  his  dead  eyes 
and  his  deadly  tongue. 

"  Nay,  now,  because  of  the  oath  that  I  sware  to 
Orde  Sahib  when  we  watched  him  die  by  the  river 
yonder,  I  will  tell.  In  the  first  place,  is  it  true 
that  the  English  have  set  the  heel  of  the  Bengali 
on  their  own  neck,  and  that  there  is  no  more 
English  rule  in  the  land " 

"  I  am  here,"  said  Tallantire,  "  and  I  serve  the 
Maharanee  of  England." 

"The  Mullah  said  otherwise,  and  further  that 
because  we  loved  Orde  Sahib  the  Government  sent 
us  a  pig  to  show  that  we  were  dogs  who  till  now 
have  been  held  by  the  strong  hand.  Also  that 
they  were  taking  away  the  white  soldiers,  that 

184 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


more  Hindustanis  might  come,  and  that  all  was 
changing." 

This  is  the  worst  of  ill-considered  handling  of 
a  very  large  country.  What  looks  so  feasible  in 
Calcutta,  so  right  in  Bombay,  so  unassailable  in 
Madras,  is  misunderstood  by  the  North  and  en- 
tirely changes  its  complexion  on  the  banks  of  the 
Indus.  Khoda  Dad  Khan  explained  as  clearly  as  he 
could  that,  though  he  himself  intended  to  be  good, 
he  really  could  not  answer  for  the  more  reckless 
members  of  his  tribe  under  the  leadership  of  the 
Blind  Mullah.  They  might  or  they  might  not  give 
trouble,  but  they  certainly  had  no  intention  what- 
ever of  obeying  the  new  Deputy  Commissioner. 
Was  Tallantire  perfectly  sure  that  in  the  event  of 
any  systematic  border-raiding  the  force  in  the  dis- 
trict could  put  it  down  promptly 

"  Tell  the  Mullah  if  he  talks  any  more  fool's 
talk,"  said  Tallantire  curtly,  "that  he  takes  his 
men  on  to  certain  death,  and  his  tribe  to  block- 
ade, trespass-fine,  and  blood-money.  But  why  do 
I  talk  to  one  who  no  longer  carries  weight  in  the 
counsels  of  the  tribe  " 

Khoda  Dad  Khan  pocketed  that  insult.  He 
had  learned  something  that  he  much  wanted  to 
know,  and  returned  to  his  hills  to  be  sarcastically 
complimented  by  the  Mullah,  whose  tongue  rag- 
ing round  the  camp-fires  was  deadlier  flame  than 
ever  dung-cake  fed. 

185 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


IV 

Be  pleased  to  consider  here  for  a  moment  the 
unknown  district  of  Kot-Kumharsen.  It  lay  cut 
lengthways  by  the  Indus  under  the  line  of  the 
Khusru  hills  — •  ramparts  of  useless  earth  and  tum- 
bled stone.  It  was  seventy  miles  long  by  fifty 
broad,  maintained  a  population  of  something  less 
than  two  hundred  thousand,  and  paid  taxes  to  the 
extent  of  forty  thousand  pounds  a  year  on  an  area 
that  was  by  rather  more  than  half  sheer,  hopeless 
waste.  The  cultivators  were  not  gentle  people, 
the  miners  for  salt  were  less  gentle  still,  and  the 
cattle-breeders  least  gentle  of  all.  A  police-post  in 
the  top  right-hand  corner  and  a  tiny  mud  fort  in 
the  top  left-hand  corner  prevented  as  much  salt- 
smuggling  and  cattle-lifting  as  the  influence  of  the 
civilians  could  not  put  down ;  and  in  the  bottom 
right-hand  corner  lay  Jumala,  the  district  head- 
quarters—  a  pitiful  knot  of  lime-washed  barns 
facetiously  rented  as  houses,  reeking  with  fron- 
tier fever,  leaking  in  the  rain,  and  ovens  in  the 
summer. 

It  was  to  this  place  that  Grish  Chunder  De  was 
travelling,  there  formally  to  take  over  charge  of 
the  district.  But  the  news  of  his  coming  had  gone 
before.  Bengalis  were  as  scarce  as  poodles  among 
the  simple  Borderers,  who  cut  each  other's  heads 
open  with  their  long  spades  and  worshipped  im- 

186 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


partially  at  Hindu  and  Mahomedan  shrines.  They 
crowded  to  see  him,  pointing  at  him,  and  diversely 
comparing  him  to  a  gravid  miich-bufFalo,  or  a 
broken-down  horse,  as  their  limited  range  of  meta- 
phor prompted.  They  laughed  at  his  police-guard, 
and  wished  to  know  how  long  the  burly  Sikhs  were 
going  to  lead  Bengali  apes.  They  inquired  whe- 
ther he  had  brought  his  women  with  him,  and  ad- 
vised him  explicitly  not  to  tamper  with  theirs. 
It  remained  for  a  wrinkled  hag  by  the  roadside  to 
slap  her  lean  breasts  as  he  passed,  crying,  "  I  have 
suckled  six  that  could  have  eaten  six  thousand  of 
him.  The  Government  shot  them,  and  made  this 
That  a  king !  "  Whereat  a  blue-turbaned  huge- 
boned  plough-mender  shouted,  "  Have  hope, 
mother  o'  mine  I  He  may  yet  go  the  way  of  thy 
wastrels."  And  the  children,  the  little  brown  puff- 
balls,  regarded  curiously.  It  was  generally  a  good 
thing  for  infancy  to  stray  into  Orde  Sahib's  tent, 
where  copper  coins  were  to  be  won  for  the  mere 
wishing,  and  tales  of  the  most  authentic,  such  as 
even  their  mothers  knew  but  the  first  half  of  No ! 
This  fat  black  man  could  never  tell  them  how  Pir 
Prith  hauled  the  eye-teeth  out  of  ten  devils;  how 
the  big  stones  came  to  lie  all  in  a  row  on  top  of 
the  Khusru  hills,  and  what  happened  if  you  shouted 
through  the  village-gate  to  the  gray  wolf  at  even, 
"  Badl  Khas  is  dead."  Meantime  Grish  Chunder 
De  talked  hastily  and  much  to  Tallantire,  after  the 

187 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


manner  of  those  who  are  "  more  English  than  the 
English," — of  Oxford  and  "  home,"  with  much  cu- 
rious book-knowledge  of  bump-suppers,  cricket- 
matches,  hunting-runs,  and  other  unholy  sports  of 
the  alien.  "  We  must  get  these  fellows  in  hand," 
he  said  once  or  twice  uneasily;  "get  them  well  in 
hand,  and  drive  them  on  a  tight  rein.  No  use, 
you  know,  being  slack  with  your  district." 

And  a  moment  later  Tallantire  heard  Debendra 
Nath  De,  who  brotherliwise  had  followed  his  kins- 
man's fortune  and  hoped  for  the  shadow  of  his 
protection  as  a  pleader,  whisper  in  Bengali, 
"  Better  are  dried  fish  at  Dacca  than  drawn  swords 
at  Delhi.  Brother  of  mine,  these  men  are  devils, 
as  our  mother  said.  And  you  will  always  have  to 
ride  upon  a  horse  !  " 

That  night  there  was  a  public  audience  in  a 
broken-down  little  town  thirty  miles  from  Jumala, 
when  the  new  Deputy  Commissioner,  in  reply  to 
the  greetings  of  the  subordinate  native  officials, 
delivered  a  speech.  It  was  a  carefully  thought  out 
speech,  which  would  have  been  very  valuable  had 
not  his  third  sentence  begun  with  three  innocent 
words,  Hafnara  hooku/n  hai — It  is  my  order." 
Then  there  was  a  laugh,  clear  and  bell-like,  from 
the  back  of  the  big  tent,  where  a  few  border  land- 
holders sat,  and  the  laugh  grew  and  scorn  mingled 
with  it,  and  the  lean,  keen  face  of  Debendra  Nath 
De  paled,  and  Grish  Chunder,  turning  to  Tallantire, 

188 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


spake:  Ton  —  you  put  up  this  arrangement." 
Upon  that  instant  the  noise  of  hoofs  rang  without, 
and  there  entered  Curbar,  the  District  Super- 
intendent of  Police,  sweating  and  dusty.  The 
State  had  tossed  him  into  a  corner  of  the  province 
for  seventeen  weary  years,  there  to  check  smugghng 
of  salt,  and  to  hope  for  promotion  that  never  came. 
He  had  forgotten  how  to  keep  his  white  uniform 
clean,  had  screwed  rusty  spurs  into  patent-leather 
shoes,  and  clothed  his  head  indifferently  with  a 
helmet  or  a  turban.  Soured,  old,  worn  with 
heat  and  cold,  he  waited  till  he  should  be 
entitled  to  sufficient  pension  to  keep  him  from 
starving. 

"  Tallantire,"  said  he,  disregarding  Grish 
Chunder  De,  "  come  outside.  I  want  to  speak  to 
you."  They  withdrew.  "  It's  this,"  continued 
Curbar.  "  The  Khusru  Kheyl  have  rushed  and 
cut  up  half  a  dozen  of  the  coolies  on  Ferris's  new 
canal-embankment;  killed  a  couple  of  men  and 
carried  off  a  woman.  I  wouldn't  trouble  you 
about  that  —  Ferris  is  after  them  and  Hugonin, 
my  assistant,  with  ten  mounted  police.  But  that's 
only  the  beginning,  I  fancy.  Their  fires  are  out 
on  the  Hassan  Ardeb  heights,  and  unless  we're 
pretty  quick  there'll  be  a  flare-up  all  along  our 
Border.  They  are  sure  to  raid  the  four  Khusru 
villages  on  our  side  of  the  line ;  there's  been  bad 
blood  between  them  for  years ;  and  you  know  the 

189 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


Blind  Mullah  has  been  preaching  a  holy  war  since 
Orde  went  out.    What's  your  notion  ^  " 

"  Damn ! "  said  Tallantire  thoughtfully. 
"  They've  begun  quick.  Well,  it  seems  to  me 
I'd  better  ride  off  to  Fort  Ziar  and  get  what  men 
I  can  there  to  picket  among  the  lowland  villages, 
if  it's  not  too  late.  Tommy  Dodd  commands  at 
Fort  Ziar,  I  think.    Ferris  and  Hugonin  ought  to 

teach  the  canal-thieves  a  lesson,  and   No,  we 

can't  have  the  Head  of  the  Police  ostentatiously 
guarding  the  Treasury.  You  go  back  to  the  canal. 
I'll  wire  BuUows  to  come  into  Jumala  with  a 
strong  police-guard,  and  sit  on  the  Treasury.  They 
won't  touch  the  place,  but  it  looks  well." 

"I  —  I  —  I  insist  upon  knowing  what  this 
means,"  said  the  voice  of  the  Deputy  Commis- 
sioner, who  had  followed  the  speakers. 

"  Oh  ! "  said  Curbar,  who,  being  in  the  Police, 
could  not  understand  that  fifteen  years  of  educa- 
tion must,  on  principle,  change  the  Bengali  into 
a  Briton.  "  There  has  been  a  fight  on  the  Border, 
and  heaps  of  men  are  killed.  There's  going 
to  be  another  fight,  and  heaps  more  will  be 
killed." 

"  What  for?" 

"Because  the  teeming  millions  of  this  district 
don't  exactly  approve  of  you,  and  think  that  un- 
der your  benign  rule  they  are  going  to  have  a 
good  time.    It  strikes  me  that  you  had  better 

190 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


make  arrangements.  I  act,  as  you  know,  by  your 
orders.    What  do  you  advise  ?  " 

"I — I  take  you  all  to  witness  that  I  have  not 
yet  assumed  charge  of  the  district,"  stammered 
the  Deputy  Commissioner,  not  in  the  tones  of  the 
"  more  English." 

"Ah,  I  thought  so.  Well,  as  I  was  saying, 
Tallantire,  your  plan  is  sound.  Carry  it  out.  Do 
you  want  an  escort  ?  " 

"  No ;  only  a  decent  horse.  But  how  about 
wiring  to  headquarters " 

"  I  fancy,  from  the  colour  of  his  cheeks,  that 
your  superior  officer  will  send  some  wonderful 
telegrams  before  the  night's  over.  Let  him  do 
that,  and  we  shall  have  half  the  troops  of  the 
province  coming  up  to  see  what's  the  trouble. 
Well,  run  along,  and  take  care  of  yourself — the 
Khusru  Kheyl  jab  upwards  from  below,  remem- 
ber. Ho!  Mir  Khan,  give  Tallantire  Sahib  the 
best  of  the  horses,  and  tell  five  men  to  ride  to 
Jumala  with  the  Deputy  Commissioner  Sahib 
Bahadur.    There  is  a  hurry  toward." 

There  was ;  and  it  was  not  in  the  least  bettered 
by  Debendra  Nath  De  clinging  to  a  policeman's 
bridle  and  demanding  the  shortest,  the  very  short- 
est way  to  Jumala.  Now  originality  is  fatal  to 
the  Bengali.  Debendra  Nath  should  have  stayed 
with  his  brother,  who  rode  steadfastly  for  Jumala 
on  the  railway-line,  thanking  gods  entirely  un- 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


known  to  the  most  catholic  of  universities  that 
he  had  not  taken  charge  of  the  district,  and  could 
still — happy  resource  of  a  fertile  race! — fall  sick. 

And  I  grieve  to  say  that  when  he  reached  his 
goal  two  policemen,  not  devoid  of  rude  wit,  who 
had  been  conferring  together  as  they  bumped  in 
their  saddles,  arranged  an  entertainment  for  his 
behoof  It  consisted  of  first  one  and  then  the 
other  entering  his  room  with  prodigious  details 
of  war,  the  massing  of  bloodthirsty  and  devilish 
tribes,  and  the  burning  of  towns.  It  was  almost 
as  good,  said  these  scamps,  as  riding  with  Curbar 
after  evasive  Afghans.  Each  invention  kept  the 
hearer  at  work  for  half  an  hour  on  telegrams  which 
the  sack  of  Delhi  would  hardly  have  justified.  To 
every  power  that  could  move  a  bayonet  or  transfer 
a  terrified  man,  Grish  Chunder  De  appealed  tele- 
graphically. He  was  alone,  his  assistants  had 
fled,  and  in  truth  he  had  not  taken  over  charge 
of  the  district.  Had  the  telegrams  been  de- 
spatched many  things  would  have  occurred ;  but 
since  the  only  signaller  in  Jumala  had  gone  to 
bed,  and  the  station-master,  after  one  look  at  the 
tremendous  pile  of  paper,  discovered  that  railway 
regulations  forbade  the  forwarding  of  imperial 
messages,  policemen  Ram  Singh  and  N  ihal  Singh 
were  fain  to  turn  the  stuff  into  a  pillow  and  slept 
on  it  very  comfortably. 

Tallantire  drove  his  spurs  into  a  rampant  skew- 
192 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 

bald  stallion  with  china-blue  eyes,  and  settled 
himself  for  the  forty-mile  ride  to  Fort  Ziar. 
Knowing  his  district  blindfold,  he  wasted  no  time 
hunting  for  short  cuts,  but  headed  across  the  richer 
grazing-ground  to  the  ford  where  Orde  had  died 
and  been  buried.  The  dusty  ground  deadened 
the  noise  of  his  horse's  hoofs,  the  moon  threw  his 
shadow,  a  restless  goblin,  before  him,  and  the 
heavy  dew  drenched  him  to  the  skin.  Hillock, 
scrub  that  brushed  against  the  horse's  belly,  un- 
metalled  road  where  the  whip-like  foliage  of  the 
tamarisks  lashed  his  forehead,  illimitable  levels  of 
lowland  furred  with  bent  and  speckled  with  drows- 
ing cattle,  waste,  and  hillock  anew,  dragged  them- 
selves past,  and  the  skewbald  was  labouring  in 
the  deep  sand  of  the  Indus-ford.  Tallantire  was 
conscious  of  no  distinct  thought  till  the  nose  of 
the  dawdling  ferry-boat  grounded  on  the  farther 
side,  and  his  horse  shied  snorting  at  the  white 
headstone  of  Orde's  grave.  Then  he  uncovered, 
and  shouted  that  the  dead  might  hear,  "  They're 
out,  old  man  I  Wish  me  luck."  In  the  chill  of 
the  dawn  he  was  hammering  with  a  stirrup-iron 
at  the  gate  of  Fort  Ziar,  where  fifty  sabres  of  that 
tattered  regiment,  the  Belooch  Beshaklis,  were 
supposed  to  guard  Her  Majesty's  interests  along 
a  few  hundred  miles  of  Border.  This  particular 
fort  was  commanded  by  a  subaltern,  who,  born 
of  the  ancient  family  of  the  Derouletts,  naturally 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


answered  to  the  name  of  Tommy  Dodd.  Him 
Tallantire  found  robed  in  a  sheepskin  coat,  shak- 
ing with  fever  like  an  aspen,  and  trying  to  read 
the  native  apothecary's  list  of  invahds. 

"So  you've  come,  too,"  said  he.  "Well,  we're 
all  sick  here,  and  I  don't  think  I  can  horse  thirty 
men ;  but  we're  bub-bub-bub-blessed  willing. 
Stop,  does  this  impress  you  as  a  trap  or  a  lie  *?  " 
He  tossed  a  scrap  of  paper  to  Tallantire,  on  which 
was  written  painfully  in  crabbed  Gurmukhi,  "  We 
cannot  hold  young  horses.  They  will  feed  after 
the  moon  goes  down  in  the  four  border  villages 
issuing  from  the  Jagai  pass  on  the  next  night." 
Then  in  English  round  hand  — "  Your  sincere 
friend." 

"  Good  man  !  "  said  Tallantire.  "  That's  Khoda 
Dad  Khan's  work,  I  know.  It's  the  only  piece  of 
English  he  could  ever  keep  in  his  head,  and  he  is 
immensely  proud  of  it.  He  is  playing  against  the 
Blind  Mullah  for  his  own  hand  —  the  treacherous 
young  ruffian ! " 

"  Don't  know  the  politics  of  the  Khusru  Kheyl, 
but  if  you're  satisfied,  I  am.  That  was  pitched  in 
over  the  gate-head  last  night,  and  I  thought  we 
might  pull  ourselves  together  and  see  what  was 
on.  Oh,  but  we're  sick  with  fever  here,  and  no 
mistake  !  Is  this  going  to  be  a  big  business,  think 
you  *?  "  said  Tommy  Dodd. 

Tallantire  gave  him  briefly  the  outlines  of  the 
194 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


case,  and  Tommy  Dodd  whistled  and  shook  with 
fever  alternately.  That  day  he  devoted  to  strategy, 
the  art  of  war,  and  the  enlivenment  of  the  invalids, 
till  at  dusk  there  stood  ready  forty-two  troopers, 
lean,  worn,  and  dishevelled,  whom  Tommy  Dodd 
surveyed  with  pride,  and  addressed  thus :  "  O 
men  I  If  you  die  you  will  go  to  Hell.  Therefore 
endeavour  to  keep  alive.  But  if  you  go  to  Hell 
that  place  cannot  be  hotter  than  this  place,  and  we 
are  not  told  that  we  shall  there  suffer  from  fever. 
Consequently  be  not  afraid  of  dying.  File  out 
there  I  "    They  grinned,  and  went. 

v 

It  will  be  long  ere  the  Khusru  Kheyl  forget 
their  night  attack  on  the  lowland  villages.  The 
Mullah  had  promised  an  easy  victory  and  un- 
limited plunder;  but  behold,  armed  troopers  of 
the  Queen  had  risen  out  of  the  very  earth,  cutting, 
slashing,  and  riding  down  under  the  stars,  so  that 
no  man  knew  where  to  turn,  and  all  feared  that 
they  had  brought  an  army  about  their  ears,  and 
ran  back  to  the  hills.  In  the  panic  of  that  flight 
more  men  were  seen  to  drop  from  wounds  inflicted 
by  an  Afghan  knife  jabbed  upwards,  and  yet  more 
from  long-range  carbine-fire.  Then  there  rose  a 
cry  of  treachery,  and  when  they  reached  their  own 
guarded  heights,  they  had  left,  with  some  forty 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


dead  and  sixty  wounded,  all  their  confidence  in 
the  Blind  Mullah  on  the  plains  below.  They 
clamoured,  swore,  and  argued  round  the  fires; 
the  women  wailing  for  the  lost,  and  the  Mullah 
shrieking  curses  on  the  returned. 

Then  Khoda  Dad  Khan,  eloquent  and  un- 
breathed,  for  he  had  taken  no  part  in  the  fight, 
rose  to  improve  the  occasion.  He  pointed  out 
that  the  tribe  owed  every  item  of  its  present  mis- 
fortune to  the  Bhnd  Mullah,  who  had  lied  in  every 
possible  particular  and  talked  them  into  a  trap.  It 
was  undoubtedly  an  insult  that  a  Bengali,  the  son 
of  a  Bengali,  should  presume  to  administer  the 
Border,  but  that  fact  did  not,  as  the  Mullah  pre- 
tended, herald  a  general  time  of  license  and  lifting; 
and  the  inexplicable  madness  of  the  English  had 
not  in  the  least  impaired  their  power  of  guarding 
their  marches.  On  the  contrary,  the  baffled  and 
out-generalled  tribe  would  now,  just  when  their 
food-stock  was  lowest,  be  blockaded  from  any 
trade  with  Hindustan  until  they  had  sent  hostages 
for  good  behaviour,  paid  compensation  for  distur- 
bance, and  blood-money  at  the  rate  of  thirty-six 
English  pounds  per  head  for  every  villager  that 
they  might  have  slain.  "  And  ye  know  that  those 
lowland  dogs  will  make  oath  that  we  have  slain 
scores.  Will  the  Mullah  pay  the  fines  or  must  we 
sell  our  guns  ^  "  A  low  growl  ran  round  the  fires, 
"  Now,  seeing  that  all  this  is  the  Mullah's  work, 

196 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


and  that  we  have  gained  nothing  but  promises  of 
Paradise  thereby,  it  is  in  my  heart  that  we  of  the 
Khusru  Kheyl  lack  a  shrine  whereat  to  pray.  We 
are  weakened,  and  henceforth  how  shall  we  dare  to 
cross  into  the  Madar  Kheyl  border,  as  has  been 
our  custom,  to  kneel  to  Pir  Sajji's  tomb?  The 
Madar  men  will  fall  upon  us,  and  rightly.  But 
our  Mullah  is  a  holy  man.  He  has  helped  two 
score  of  us  into  Paradise  this  night.  Let  him 
therefore  accompany  his  flock,  and  we  will  build 
over  his  body  a  dome  of  the  blue  tiles  of  Mooltan, 
and  burn  lamps  at  his  feet  every  Friday  night.  He 
shall  be  a  saint ;  we  shall  have  a  shrine ;  and  there 
our  women  shall  pray  for  fresh  seed  to  fill  the  gaps 
in  our  fighting-tale.    How  think  you  " 

A  grim  chuckle  followed  the  suggestion,  and 
the  soft  wheep^  wheep  of  unscabbarded  knives  fol- 
lowed the  chuckle.  It  was  an  excellent  notion, 
and  met  a  long-felt  want  of  the  tribe.  The  Mul- 
lah sprang  to  his  feet,  glaring  with  withered  eye- 
balls at  the  drawn  death  he  could  not  see,  and  call- 
ing down  the  curses  of  God  and  Mahomed  on  the 
tribe.  Then  began  a  game  of  blind  man's  buff 
round  and  between  the  fires,  whereof  Khuruk  Shah, 
the  tribal  poet,  has  sung  in  verse  that  will  not  die. 

They  tickled  him  gently  under  the  armpit  with 
the  knife-point.  He  leaped  aside  screaming,  only 
to  feel  a  cold  blade  drawn  lightly  over  the  back 
of  his  neck,  or  a  rifle-muzzle  rubbing  his  beard, 

197 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


He  called  on  his  adherents  to  aid  him,  but  most 
of  these  lay  dead  on  the  plains,  for  Khoda  Dad 
Khan  had  been  at  some  pains  to  arrange  their  de- 
cease. Men  described  to  him  the  glories  of  the 
shrine  they  would  build,  and  the  little  children, 
clapping  their  hands,  cried,  "  Run,  Mullah,  run ! 
There's  a  man  behind  you !  "  In  the  end,  when 
the  sport  wearied,  Khoda  Dad  Khan's  brother  sent 
a  knife  home  between  his  ribs.  "  Wherefore," 
said  Khoda  Dad  Khan  with  charming  simplicity, 
"  I  am  now  Chief  of  the  Khusru  Kheyl ! "  No 
man  gainsaid  him ;  and  they  all  went  to  sleep  very 
stiff  and  sore. 

On  the  plain  below  Tommy  Dodd  was  lecturing 
on  the  beauties  of  a  cavalry  charge  by  night,  and 
Tallantire,  bowed  on  his  saddle,  was  gasping  hys- 
terically because  there  was  a  sword  dangling  from 
his  wrist  flecked  with  the  blood  of  the  Khusru 
Kheyl,  the  tribe  that  Orde  had  kept  in  leash  so 
well.  When  a  Rajpoot  trooper  pointed  out  that 
the  skewbald's  right  ear  had  been  taken  off  at  the 
root  by  some  blind  slash  of  its  unskilled  rider, 
Tallantire  broke  down  altogether,  and  laughed 
and  sobbed  till  Tommy  Dodd  made  him  lie  down 
and  rest. 

"  We  must  wait  about  till  the  morning,"  said  he. 
"  I  wired  to  the  Colonel,  just  before  we  left,  to  send 
a  wing  of  the  Beshaklis  after  us.  He'll  be  furious 
with  me  for  monopolizing  the  fun,  though.  Those 

198 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


beggars  in  the  hills  won't  give  us  any  more 
trouble." 

"  Then  tell  the  Beshaklis  to  go  on  and  see  what 
has  happened  to  Curbar  on  the  canal.  We  must 
patrol  the  whole  line  of  the  Border.  You're  quite 
sure,  Tommy,  that  —  that  stuff  was  —  was  only 
the  skewbald's  ear  ?  " 

"  Oh,  quite,"  said  Tommy.  "  You  just  missed 
cutting  off  his  head.  /  saw  you  when  we  went 
into  the  mess.    Sleep,  old  man." 

Noon  brought  two  squadrons  of  Beshaklis  and 
a  knot  of  furious  brother  officers  demanding  the 
court-martial  of  Tommy  Dodd  for  "  spoiling  the 
picnic,"  and  a  gallop  across  country  to  the  canal- 
works  where  Ferris,  Curbar,  and  Hugonin  were 
haranguing  the  terror-stricken  coolies  on  the  enor- 
mity of  abandoning  good  work  and  high  pay, 
merely  because  half  a  dozen  of  their  fellows  had 
been  cut  down.  The  sight  of  a  troop  of  the  Be- 
shaklis restored  wavering  confidence,  and  the  po- 
lice-hunted section  of  the  Khusru  Kheyl  had  the 
joy  of  watching  the  canal-bank  humming  with  life 
as  usual,  while  such  of  their  men  as  had  taken 
refuge  in  the  water-courses  and  ravines  were  being 
driven  out  by  the  troopers.  By  sundown  began 
the  remorseless  patrol  of  the  Border  by  police  and 
trooper,  most  like  the  cow-boys'  eternal  ride  round 
restless  cattle. 

"Now,"  said  Khoda  Dad  Khan  to  his  fellows, 
199 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


pointing  out  a  line  of  twinkling  fires  below,  "  ye 
may  see  how  far  the  old  order  changes.  After 
their  horse  will  come  the  little  devil-guns  that  they 
can  drag  up  to  the  tops  of  the  hills,  and,  for  aught 
I  know,  to  the  clouds  when  we  crown  the  hills. 
If  the  tribe-council  thinks  good,  I  will  go  to  Tal- 
lantire  Sahib  — -  who  loves  me  —  and  see  if  I  can 
stave  off  at  least  the  blockade.  Do  I  speak  for 
the  tribe  ?  " 

"  Ay,  speak  for  the  tribe  in  God's  name.  How 
those  accursed  fires  wink  I  Do  the  English  send 
their  troops  on  the  wire  —  or  is  this  the  work  of 
the  Bengali  ?  " 

As  Khoda  Dad  Khan  went  down  the  hill  he 
was  delayed  by  an  interview  with  a  hard-pressed 
tribesman,  which  caused  him  to  return  hastily  for 
something  he  had  forgotten.  Then,  handing 
himself  over  to  the  two  troopers  who  had  been 
chasing  his  friend,  he  claimed  escort  to  Tallantire 
Sahib,  then  with  BuUows  at  Jumala.  The  Border 
was  safe,  and  the  time  for  reasons  in  writing  had 
begun. 

"Thank  Heaven,"  said  BuUows,  "that  the 
trouble  came  at  once.  Of  course  we  can  never 
put  down  the  reason  in  black  and  white,  but  all 
India  will  understand.  And  it  is  better  to  have  a 
sharp,  short  outbreak  than  five  years  of  impotent 
administration  inside  the  Border.  It  costs  less. 
Grish  Chunder  De  has  reported  himself  sick,  and 

200 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


has  been  transferred  to  his  own  province  without 
any  sort  of  reprimand.  He  was  strong  on  not 
having  taken  over  the  district." 

"Of  course,"  said  Tallantire  bitterly.  "Well, 
what  am  I  supposed  to  have  done  that  was 
wrong  ^  " 

"  Oh,  you  will  be  told  that  you  exceeded  all 
your  powers,  and  should  have  reported,  and  writ- 
ten, and  advised  for  three  weeks  until  the  Khusru 
Kheyl  could  really  come  down  in  force.  But  I 
don't  think  the  authorities  will  dare  to  make  a  fuss 
about  it.  They've  had  their  lesson.  Have  you 
seen  Curbar's  version  of  the  affair?  He  can't 
write  a  report,  but  he  can  speak  the  truth." 

"What's  the  use  of  the  truth?  He'd  much 
better  tear  up  the  report.  I'm  sick  and  heart- 
broken over  it  all.  It  was  so  utterly  unnecessary 
—  except  in  that  it  rid  us  of  the  Babu." 

Entered  unabashed  Khoda  Dad  Khan,  a  stuffed 
forage-net  in  his  hand,  and  the  troopers  behind  him. 

"May  you  never  be  tired!"  said  he  cheerily. 
"  Well,  Sahibs,  that  was  a  good  fight,  and  Naim 
Shah's  mother  is  in  debt  to  you,  Tallantire  Sahib. 
A  clean  cut,  they  tell  me,  through  jaw,  wadded 
coat,  and  deep  into  the  collar-bone.  Well  done ! 
But  I  speak  for  the  tribe.  There  has  been  a  fault 
— a  great  fault.  Thou  knowest  that  I  and  mine, 
Tallantire  Sahib,  kept  the  oath  we  sware  to  Orde 
Sahib  on  the  banks  of  the  Indus." 

201 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"As  an  Afghan  keeps  his  knife  —  sharp  on  one 
side,  blunt  on  the  other,"  said  Tallantire. 

"  The  better  swing  in  the  blow,  then.  But  I 
speak  God's  truth.  Only  the  Blind  Mullah  car- 
ried the  young  men  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue,  and 
said  that  there  was  no  more  Border-law  because  a 
Bengali  had  been  sent,  and  we  need  not  fear  the 
English  at  all.  So  they  came  down  to  avenge 
that  insult  and  get  plunder.  Ye  know  w^hat  be- 
fell, and  how  far  I  helped.  Now  five  score  of  us 
are  dead  or  wounded,  and  we  are  all  shamed  and 
sorry,  and  desire  no  further  war.  Moreover,  that 
ye  may  better  listen  to  us,  we  have  taken  off  the 
head  of  the  Blind  Mullah,  whose  evil  counsels 
have  led  us  to  folly.  I  bring  it  for  proof,"  —  and 
he  heaved  on  the  floor  the  head.  "  He  will  give 
no  more  trouble,  for  I  am  chief  now,  and  so  I  sit 
in  a  higher  place  at  all  audiences.  Yet  there  is 
an  offset  to  this  head.  That  was  another  fault. 
One  of  the  men  found  that  black  Bengali  beast, 
through  whom  this  trouble  arose,  wandering  on 
horseback  ^nd  weeping.  Reflecting  that  he  had 
caused  loss  of  much  good  life.  Alia  Dad  Khan, 
whom,  if  you  choose,  I  will  to-morrow  shoot, 
whipped  off  this  head,  and  I  bring  it  to  you  to 
cover  your  shame,  that  ye  may  bury  it.  See,  no 
man  kept  the  spectacles,  though  they  were  of  gold." 

Slowly  rolled  to  Tallantire's  feet  the  crop-haired 
head  of  a  spectacled  Bengali  gentleman,  open- 

202 


THE  HEAD  OF  THE  DISTRICT 


eyed,  open-mouthed  —  the  head  of  Terror  incar- 
nate. Bullows  bent  down.  "  Yet  another  blood- 
fine  and  a  heavy  one,  Khoda  Dad  Khan,  for  this  is 
the  head  of  Debendra  Nath,  the  man's  brother. 
The  Babu  is  safe  long  since.  All  but  the  fools  of 
the  Khusru  Kheyl  know  that." 

"  Well,  I  care  not  for  carrion.  Quick  meat  for 
me.  The  thing  was  under  our  hills  asking  the 
road  to  Jumala,  and  Alia  Dad  Khan  showed  him 
the  road  to  Jehannum,  being,  as  thou  sayest,  but 
a  fool.  Remains  now  what  the  Government  will 
do  to  us.    As  to  the  blockade  " 

"Who  art  thou,  seller  of  dog's  flesh,"  thundered 
Tallantire,  "  to  speak  of  terms  and  treaties  ?  Get 
hence  to  the  hills  —  go  and  wait  there,  starving, 
till  it  shall  please  the  Government  to  call  thy  peo- 
ple out  for  punishment  —  children  and  fools  that 
ye  be !  Count  your  dead,  and  be  still.  Rest  as- 
sured that  the  Government  will  send  you  a  man  !  " 

"  Ay,"  returned  Khoda  Dad  Khan,  "  for  we  also 
be  men." 

As  he  looked  Tallantire  between  the  eyes,  he 
added,  "And  by  God,  Sahib,  may  thou  be  that 
man ! " 


203 


THE  AMIR'S  HOMILY 


His  Royal  Highness  Abdur  Rahman,  Amir  of 
Afghanistan,  G.  C.  S.  I.,  and  trusted  ally  of  Her 
Imperial  Majesty  the  Queen  of  England  and  Em- 
press of  India,  is  a  gentleman  for  whom  all  right- 
thinking  people  should  have  a  profound  regard. 
Like  most  other  rulers,  he  governs  not  as  he  would, 
but  as  he  can,  and  the  mantle  of  his  authority  cov- 
ers the  most  turbulent  race  under  the  stars.  To 
the  Afghan  neither  life,  property,  law,  nor  king- 
ship are  sacred  when  his  own  lusts  prompt  him  to 
rebel.  He  is  a  thief  by  instinct,  a  murderer  by 
heredity  and  training,  and  frankly  and  bestially  im- 
moral by  all  three.  None  the  less  he  has  his  own 
crooked  notions  of  honour,  and  his  character  is 
fascinating  to  study.  On  occasion  he  will  fight 
without  reason  given  till  he  is  hacked  in  pieces ; 
on  other  occasions  he  will  refuse  to  show  fight  till 
he  is  driven  into  a  corner.  Herein  he  is  as  un- 
accountable as  the  gray  wolf,  who  is  his  blood- 
brother. 

And  these  men  His  Highness  rules  by  the  only 
weapon  that  they  understand  —  the  fear  of  death, 
which  among  some  Orientals  is  the  beginning  of 

Copyright,  1891,  by  Macmillan  &  Co. 


THE  AMIR'S  HOMILY 


wisdom.  Some  say  that  the  Amir's  authority 
reaches  no  farther  than  a  rifle-bullet  can  range ;  but 
as  none  are  quite  certain  when  their  king  may  be 
in  their  midst,  and  as  he  alone  holds  every  one  of 
the  threads  of  Government,  his  respect  is  increased 
among  men.  Gholam  Hyder,  the  Commander- 
in-chief  of  the  Afghan  army,  is  feared  reasonably, 
for  he  can  impale ;  all  Kabul  city  fears  the  Gov- 
ernor of  Kabul,  who  has  power  of  life  and  death 
through  all  the  wards ;  but  the  Amir  of  Afghanis- 
tan, though  outlying  tribes  pretend  otherwise  when 
his  back  is  turned,  is  dreaded  beyond  chief  and 
governor  together.  His  word  is  red  law ;  by  the 
gust  of  his  passion  falls  the  leaf  of  man's  life,  and 
his  favour  is  terrible.  He  has  suffered  many  things, 
and  been  a  hunted  fugitive  before  he  came  to  the 
throne,  and  he  understands  all  the  classes  of  his 
people.  By  the  custom  of  the  East  any  man  or 
woman  having  a  complaint  to  make,  or  an  enemy 
against  whom  to  be  avenged,  has  the  right  of 
speaking  face  to  face  with  the  king  at  the  daily 
public  audience.  This  is  personal  government,  as 
it  was  in  the  days  of  Harun  al  Raschid  of  blessed 
memory,  whose  times  exist  still  and  will  exist  long 
after  the  English  have  passed  away. 

The  privilege  of  open  speech  is  of  course  exer- 
cised at  certain  personal  risk.  The  king  may  be 
pleased,  arid  raise  the  speaker  to  honour  for  that 
very  bluntness  of  speech  which  three  minutes  later 

205 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


brings  a  too  imitative  petitioner  to  the  edge  of  the 
ever-ready  blade.  And  the  people  love  to  have  it 
so,  for  it  is  their  right. 

It  happened  upon  a  day  in  Kabul  that  the  Amir 
chose  to  do  his  day's  work  in  the  Baber  Gardens, 
which  lie  a  short  distance  from  the  city  of  Kabul. 
A  light  table  stood  before  him,  and  round  the  table 
in  the  open  air  were  grouped  generals  and  finance 
ministers  according  to  their  degree.  The  Court 
and  the  long  tail  of  feudal  chiefs  —  men  of  blood, 
fed  and  cowed  by  blood  —  stood  in  an  irregular 
semicircle  round  the  table,  and  the  wind  from  the 
Kabul  orchards  blew  among  them.  All  day  long 
sweating  couriers  dashed  in  with  letters  from  the 
outlying  districts  with  rumours  of  rebellion,  in- 
trigue, famine,  failure  of  payments,  or  announce- 
ments of  treasure  on  the  road ;  and  all  day  long 
the  Amir  would  read  the  dockets,  and  pass  such 
of  these  as  were  less  private  to  the  officials  whom 
they  directly  concerned,  or  call  up  a  waiting  chief 
for  a  word  of  explanation.  It  is  well  to  speak 
clearly  to  the  ruler  of  Afghanistan.  Then  the 
grim  head,  under  the  black  astrachan  cap  with  the 
diamond  star  in  front,  would  nod  gravely,  and  that 
chief  would  return  to  his  fellows.  Once  that  after- 
noon a  woman  clamoured  for  divorce  against  her 
husband,  who  was  bald,  and  the  Amir,  hearing 
both  sides  of  the  case,  bade  her  pour  curds  over 
the  bare  scalp,  and  lick  them  off,  that  the  hair 

206 


THE  AMIR'S  HOMILY 


might  grow  again,  and  she  be  contented.  Here 
the  Court  laughed,  and  the  woman  withdrew,  curs- 
ing her  king  under  her  breath. 

But  when  twilight  was  falling,  and  the  order 
of  the  Court  was  a  little  relaxed,  there  came  be- 
fore the  king,  in  custody,  a  trembling,  haggard 
wretch,  sore  with  much  buffeting,  but  of  stout 
enough  build,  who  had  stolen  three  rupees  —  of 
such  small  matters  does  His  Highness  take  cog- 
nisance. 

"  Why  did  you  steal  ?  "  said  he ;  and  when  the 
king  asks  questions  they  do  themselves  service 
who  answer  directly. 

"  I  was  poor,  and  no  one  gave.  Hungry,  and 
there  was  no  food." 

"  Why  did  you  not  work  ?  " 

"  I  could  find  no  work.  Protector  of  the  Poor, 
and  I  was  starving." 

"  You  lie.  You  stole  for  drink,  for  lust,  for 
idleness,  for  anything  but  hunger,  since  any  man 
who  will  may  find  work  and  daily  bread." 

The  prisoner  dropped  his  eyes.  He  had  at- 
tended the  Court  before,  and  he  knew  the  ring  of 
the  death-tone. 

"Any  man  may  get  work.  Who  knows  this 
so  well  as  I  do for  I  too  have  been  hungered  — - 
not  like  you,  bastard  scum,  but  as  any  honest 
man  may  be,  by  the  turn  of  Fate  and  the  will  of 
God." 

207 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


Growing  warm,  the  Amir  turned  to  his  nobles 
all  arow,  and  thrust  the  hilt  of  his  sabre  aside  with 
his  elbow. 

"You  have  heard  this  Son  of  Lies  Hear  me 
tell  a  true  tale.  I  also  was  once  starved,  and 
tightened  my  belt  on  the  sharp  belly-pinch.  Nor 
was  I  alone,  for  with  me  was  another,  who  did  not 
fail  me  in  my  evil  days,  when  I  was  hunted,  before 
ever  I  came  to  this  throne.  And  wandering  like 
a  houseless  dog  by  Kandahar,  my  money  melted, 

melted,  melted  till  "    He  flung  out  a  bare 

palm  before  the  audience.  "  And  day  upon  day, 
faint  and  sick,  I  went  back  to  that  one  who  waited, 
and  God  knows  how  we  lived,  till  on  a  day  I  took 
our  best  lihaf — silk  it  was,  fine  work  of  Iran,  such 
as  no  needle  now  works,  warm,  and  a  coverlet  for 
two,  and  all  that  we  had.  I  brought  it  to  a  money- 
lender in  a  by-lane,  and  I  asked  for  three  rupees 
upon  it.  He  said  to  me,  who  am  now  the  King, 
'You  are  a  thief  This  is  worth  three  hundred.' 
'  I  am  no  thief,'  I  answered,  '  but  a  prince  of  good 
blood,  and  I  am  hungry.'  — '  Prince  of  wander- 
ing beggars,'  said  that  money-lender,  '  I  have  no 
money  with  me,  but  go  to  my  house  with  my 
clerk  and  he  will  give  you  two  rupees  eight  annas, 
for  that  is  all  I  will  lend.'  So  I  went  with  the 
clerk  to  the  house,  and  we  talked  on  the  way,  and 
he  gave  me  the  money.  We  lived  on  it  till  it 
was  spent,  and  we  fared  hard.    And  then  that 

208 


THE  AMIR'S  HOMILY 


clerk  said,  being  a  young  man  of  a  good  heart, 
'  Surely  the  money-lender  will  lend  yet  more  on 
that  lihaf^  and  he  offered  me  two  rupees.  These 
I  refused,  saying,  'Nay;  but  get  me  some  work/ 
And  he  got  me  work,  and  I,  even  I,  Abdur  Rah- 
man, Amir  of  Afghanistan,  wrought  day  by  day 
as  a  coolie,  bearing  burdens,  and  labouring  of  my 
hands,  receiving  four  annas  wage  a  day  for  my 
sweat  and  backache.  But  he,  this  bastard  son  of 
naught,  must  steal !  For  a  year  and  four  months 
I  worked,  and  none  dare  say  that  I  lie,  for  I  have 
a  witness,  even  that  clerk  who  is  now  my  friend." 

Then  there  rose  in  his  place  among  the  Sirdars 
and  the  nobles  one  clad  in  silk,  who  folded  his 
hands  and  said,  "  This  is  the  truth  of  God,  for  I, 
who,  by  the  favour  of  God  and  the  Amir,  am  such 
as  you  know,  was  once  clerk  to  that  money- 
lender." 

There  was  a  pause,  and  the  Amir  cried  hoarsely 
to  the  prisoner,  throwing  scorn  upon  him,  till  he 
ended  with  the  dread,  " T>ar  arid"  which  clinches 
justice. 

So  they  led  the  thief  away,  and  the  whole  of 
him  was  seen  no  more  together;  and  the  Court 
rustled  out  of  its  silence,  whispering,  "Before  God 
and  the  Prophet,  but  this  is  a  man ! " 


209 


AT  TWENTY-TWO 


Narrow  as  the  womb,  deep  as  the  Pit,  and  dark  as  the  heart 
of  a  man. — Sonthal  Miner's  Proverb. 

"A  WEAVER  went  out  to  reap,  but  stayed  to  un- 
ravel the  corn-stalks.  Ha  I  Ha !  Ha !  Is  there 
any  sense  in  a  weaver*?  " 

Janki  Meah  glared  at  Kundoo,  but,  as  Janki 
Meah  was  blind,  Kundoo  was  not  impressed.  He 
had  come  to  argue  with  Janki  Meah,  and,  if 
chance  favoured,  to  make  love  to  the  old  man's 
pretty  young  wife. 

This  was  Kundoo's  grievance,  and  he  spoke  in 
the  name  of  all  the  five  men  who,  with  Janki 
Meah,  composed  the  gang  in  Number  Seven  gal- 
lery of  Twenty-Two.  Janki  Meah  had  been  blind 
for  the  thirty  years  during  which  he  had  served 
the  Jimahari  Collieries  with  pick  and  crowbar. 
All  through  those  thirty  years  he  had  regularly, 
every  morning  before  going  down,  drawn  from 
the  overseer  his  allowance  of  lamp-oil  — just  as 
if  he  had  been  an  eyed  miner.  What  Kundoo's 
gang  resented,  as  hundreds  of  gangs  had  resented 
before,  was  Janki  Meah's  selfishness.    He  would 

210 


AT  TWENTY-TWO 


not  add  the  oil  to  the  common  stock  of  his  gang, 
but  would  save  and  sell  it. 

"  I  knew  these  workings  before  you  were  born," 
Janki  Meah  used  to  reply :  "  I  don't  want  the 
light  to  get  my  coal  out  by,  and  I  am  not  going 
to  help  you.  The  oil  is  mine,  and  I  intend  to 
keep  it." 

A  strange  man  in  many  ways  was  Janki  Meah, 
the  white-haired,  hot-tempered,  sightless  weaver 
who  had  turned  pitman.  All  day  long  —  except 
Sundays  and  Mondays,  when  he  was  usually 
drunk  —  he  worked  in  the  Twenty-Two  shaft  of 
the  Jimahari  Colliery  as  cleverly  as  a  man  with 
all  the  senses.  At  evening  he  went  up  in  the 
great  steam-hauled  cage  to  the  pit-bank,  and  there 
called  for  his  pony  —  a  rusty,  coal-dusty  beast, 
nearly  as  old  as  Janki  Meah.  The  pony  would 
come  to  his  side,  and  Janki  Meah  would  clamber 
on  to  its  back  and  be  taken  at  once  to  the  plot  of 
land  which  he,  like  the  other  miners,  received  from 
the  Jimahari  Company.  The  pony  knew  that 
place,  and  when,  after  six  years,  the  Company 
changed  all  the  allotments  to  prevent  the  miners 
from  acquiring  proprietary  rights,  Janki  Meah 
represented,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  that  were  his 
holding  shifted,  he  would  never  be  able  to  find  his 
way  to  the  new  one.  "  My  horse  only  knows 
that  place,"  pleaded  Janki  Meah,  and  so  he  was 
allowed  to  keep  his  land. 

211 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 

On  the  strength  of  this  concession  and  his  ac- 
cumulated oil-savings,  Janki  Meah  took  a  second 
wife  —  a  girl  of  the  Jolaha  main  stock  of  the 
Meahs,  and  singularly  beautiful.  Janki  Meah 
could  not  see  her  beauty;  wherefore  he  took  her 
on  trust,  and  forbade  her  to  go  down  the  pit.  He 
had  not  worked  for  thirty  years  in  the  dark  with- 
out knowing  that  the  pit  was  no  place  for  pretty 
women.  He  loaded  her  with  ornaments  —  not 
brass  or  pewter,  but  real  silver  ones  —  and  she  re- 
warded him  by  flirting  outrageously  with  Kundoo 
of  Number  Seven  gallery  gang.  Kundoo  was 
really  the  gang-head,  but  Janki  Meah  insisted 
upon  all  the  work  being  entered  in  his  own  name, 
and  chose  the  men  that  he  worked  with.  Custom 
—  stronger  even  than  the  Jimahari  Company — • 
dictated  that  Janki,  by  right  of  his  years,  should 
manage  these  things,  and  should,  also,  work  de- 
spite his  blindness.  In  Indian  mines,  where  they 
cut  into  the  solid  coal  with  the  pick  and  clear  it  out 
from  floor  to  ceiling,  he  could  come  to  no  great 
harm.  At  Home,  where  they  undercut  the  coal 
and  bring  it  down  in  crashing  avalanches  from  the 
roof,  he  would  never  have  been  allowed  to  set  foot 
in  a  pit.  He  was  not  a  popular  man,  because  of 
his  oil-savings ;  but  all  the  gangs  admitted  that 
Janki  knew  all  the  khads^  or  workings,  that  had  ever 
been  sunk  or  worked  since  the  Jimahari  Company 
first  started  operations  on  the  Tarachunda  fields. 

212 


AT  TWENTY-TWO 


Pretty  little  Unda  only  knew  that  her  old  hus- 
band was  a  fool  who  could  be  managed.  She  took 
no  interest  in  the  collieries  except  in  so  far  as  they 
swallowed  up  Kundoo  five  days  out  of  the  seven, 
and  covered  him  with  coal-dust  Kundoo  was  a 
great  workman,  and  did  his  best  not  to  get  drunk, 
because,  when  he  had  saved  forty  rupees,  Unda 
was  to  steal  everything  that  she  could  find  in  Jan- 
ki's  house  and  run  with  Kundoo  to  a  land  where 
there  were  no  mines,  and  every  one  kept  three  fat 
bullocks  and  a  milch-buffalo.  While  this  scheme 
ripened  it  was  his  custom  to  drop  in  upon  Janki 
and  worry  him  about  the  oil-savings.  Unda  sat 
in  a  corner  and  nodded  approval.  On  the  night 
when  Kundoo  had  quoted  that  objectionable  prov- 
erb about  weavers,  Janki  grew  angry. 

"  Listen,  you  pig,"  said  he,  "  blind  I  am,  and 
old  I  am,  but,  before  ever  you  were  born,  I  was 
gray  among  the  coal.  Even  in  the  days  when 
the  Twenty-Two  khad  was  unsunk  and  there 
were  not  two  thousand  men  here,  I  was  known 
to  have  all  knowledge  of  the  pits.  What  khad 
is  there  that  I  do  not  know,  from  the  bottom 
of  the  shaft  to  the  end  of  the  last  drive?  Is 
it  the  Baromba  khad,  the  oldest,  or  the  Twenty- 
Two  where  Tibu's  gallery  runs  up  to  Number 
Five  " 

"  Hear  the  old  fool  talk  I "  said  Kundoo,  nod- 
ding to  Unda.    "  No  gallery  of  Twenty-Two  will 

213 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


cut  into  Five  before  the  end  of  the  Rains.  We 
have  a  month's  soKd  coal  before  us.  The  Babuji 
says  so." 

"Babuji!  Pigji!  Dogji  I  What  do  these  fat 
slugs  from  Calcutta  know  He  draws  and  draws 
and  draws,  and  talks  and  talks  and  talks,  and  his 
maps  are  all  wrong.  I,  Janki,  know  that  this  is 
so.  When  a  man  has  been  shut  up  in  the  dark 
for  thirty  years,  God  gives  him  knowledge.  The 
old  gallery  that  Tibu's  gang  made  is  not  six  feet 
from  Number  Five." 

"  Without  doubt  God  gives  the  blind  know- 
ledge," said  Kundoo,  with  a  look  at  Unda.  "  Let  it 
be  as  you  say.  I,  for  my  part,  do  not  know  where 
lies  the  gallery  of  Tibu's  gang,  but  /  am  not  a 
withered  monkey  who  needs  oil  to  grease  his 
joints  with." 

Kundoo  swung  out  of  the  hut  laughing,  and 
Unda  giggled.  Janki  turned  his  sightless  eyes 
toward  his  wife  and  swore.  "  I  have  land,  and  I 
have  sold  a  great  deal  of  lamp-oil,"  mused  Janki ; 
"  but  I  was  a  fool  to  marry  this  child." 

A  week  later  the  Rains  set  in  with  a  vengeance, 
and  the  gangs  paddled  about  in  coal-slush  at  the 
pit-banks.  Then  the  big  mine-pumps  were  made 
ready,  and  the  Manager  of  the  Colliery  ploughed 
through  the  wet  towards  the  Tarachunda  River 
swelling  between  its  soppy  banks.  "Lord  send 
that  this  beastly  beck  doesn't  misbehave,"  said  the 

214 


AT  TWENTY-TWO 


Manager  piously,  and  he  went  to  take  counsel  with 
his  Assistant  about  the  pumps. 

But  the  Tarachunda  misbehaved  very  much  in- 
deed. After  a  fall  of  three  inches  of  rain  in  an 
hour  it  was  obliged  to  do  something.  It  topped 
its  bank  and  joined  the  flood- water  that  was  hemmed 
between  two  low  hills  just  where  the  embankment 
of  the  Colliery  main  line  crossed.  When  a  large 
part  of  a  rain-fed  river,  and  a  few  acres  of  flood- 
water,  make  a  dead  set  for  a  nine-foot  culvert,  the 
culvert  may  spout  its  finest,  but  the  water  cannot 
all  get  out.  The  Manager  pranced  upon  one  leg 
with  excitement,  and  his  language  was  improper. 

He  had  reason  to  swear,  because  he  knew  that 
one  inch  of  water  on  land  meant  a  pressure  of  one 
hundred  tons  to  the  acre ;  and  here  were  about  five 
feet  of  water  forming,  behind  the  railway  embank- 
ment, over  the  shallower  workings  of  Twenty-Two. 
You  must  understand  that,  in  a  coal-mine,  the 
coal  nearest  the  surface  is  worked  first  from  the 
central  shaft.  That  is  to  say,  the  miners  may  clear 
out  the  stuff  to  within  ten,  twenty,  or  thirty  feet  of 
the  surface,  and,  when  all  is  worked  out,  leave 
only  a  skin  of  earth  upheld  by  some  few  pillars  of 
coal.  In  a  deep  mine  where  they  know  that  they 
have  any  amount  of  material  at  hand,  men  prefer 
to  get  all  their  mineral  out  at  one  shaft,  rather  than 
make  a  number  of  little  holes  to  tap  the  compara- 
tively unimportant  surface-coal. 

215 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


And  the  Manager  watched  the  flood. 

The  culvert  spouted  a  nine-foot  gush ;  but  the 
water  still  formed,  and  word  was  sent  to  clear  the 
men  out  of  Twenty-two.  The  cages  came  up 
crammed  and  crammed  again  with  the  men  near- 
est the  pit-eye,  as  they  call  the  place  where  you 
can  see  daylight  from  the  bottom  of  the  main  shaft. 
All  away  and  away  up  the  long  black  galleries  the 
flare-lamps  were  winking  and  dancing  like  so  many 
fireflies,  and  the  men  and  the  women  waited  for 
the  clanking,  rattling,  thundering  cages  to  come 
down  and  fly  up  again.  But  the  out-workings 
were  very  far  off,  and  word  could  not  be  passed 
quickly,  though  the  heads  of  the  gangs  and  the 
Assistant  shouted  and  swore  and  tramped  and 
stumbled.  The  Manager  kept  one  eye  on  the 
great  troubled  pool  behind  the  embankment,  and 
prayed  that  the  culvert  would  give  way  and  let 
the  water  through  in  time.  With  the  other  eye 
he  watched  the  cages  come  up  and  saw  the  head- 
men counting  the  roll  of  the  gangs.  With  all  his 
heart  and  soul  he  swore  at  the  winder  who  con- 
trolled the  iron  drum  that  wound  up  the  wire  rope 
on  which  hung  the  cages. 

In  a  little  time  there  was  a  down-draw  in  the 
water  behind  the  embankment  —  a  sucking  whirl- 
pool, all  yellow  and  yeasty.  The  water  had 
smashed  through  the  skin  of  the  earth  and  was  pour- 
ing into  the  old  shallow  workings  of  Twenty-Two. 

216 


AT  TWENTY-TWO 


Deep  down  below,  a  rush  of  black  water  caught 
the  last  gang  waiting  for  the  cage,  and  as  they 
clambered  in  the  whirl  was  about  their  waists.  The 
cage  reached  the  pit-bank,  and  the  Manager  called 
the  roll.  The  gangs  were  all  safe  except  Gang 
Janki,  Gang  Mogul,  and  Gang  Rahim,  eighteen 
men,  with  perhaps  ten  basket-women  who  loaded 
the  coal  into  the  little  iron  carriages  that  ran  on 
the  tramways  of  the  main  galleries.  These  gangs 
were  in  the  out-workings,  three-quarters  of  a  mile 
away,  on  the  extreme  fringe  of  the  mine.  Once 
more  the  cage  went  down,  but  with  only  two  Eng- 
lishmen in  it,  and  dropped  into  a  swirling,  roaring 
current  that  had  almost  touched  the  roof  of  some 
of  the  lower  side-galleries.  One  of  the  wooden 
balks  with  which  they  had  propped  the  old  work- 
ings shot  past  on  the  current,  just  missing  the  cage. 

"  If  we  don't  want  our  ribs  knocked  out,  we'd 
better  go,"  said  the  Manager.  "  We  can't  even 
save  the  Company's  props." 

The  cage  drew  out  of  the  water  with  a  splash, 
and  a  few  minutes  later  it  was  officially  reported 
that  there  were  at  least  ten  feet  of  water  in  the 
pit's  eye.  Now  ten  feet  of  water  there  meant  that 
all  other  places  in  the  mine  were  flooded  except 
such  galleries  as  were  more  than  ten  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  bottom  of  the  shaft.  The  deep 
workings  would  be  full,  the  main  galleries  would 
be  full,  but  in  the  high  workings  reached  by  in- 

217 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


clines  from  the  main  roads  there  would  be  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  air  cut  off,  so  to  speak,  by  the 
water  and  squeezed  up  by  it.  The  little  science- 
primers  explain  how  water  behaves  when  you 
pour  it  down  test-tubes.  The  flooding  of  Twenty- 
Two  was  an  illustration  on  a  large  scale. 

"  By  the  Holy  Grove,  what  has  happened  to  the 
air !  "  It  was  a  Sonthal  gangman  of  Gang  Mogul 
in  Number  Nine  gallery,  and  he  was  driving  a 
six-foot  way  through  the  coal.  Then  there  was  a 
rush  from  the  other  galleries,  and  Gang  Janki  and 
Gang  Rahim  stumbled  up  with  their  basket-women. 

"  Water  has  come  in  the  mine,"  they  said,  "  and 
there  is  no  way  of  getting  out.'* 

"  I  went  down,"  said  Janki  —  "  down  the  slope 
of  my  gallery,  and  I  felt  the  water." 

"  There  has  been  no  water  in  the  cutting  in  our 
time,"  clambured  the  women.  "  Why  cannot  we 
go  away  ^  " 

"  Be  silent !  "  said  Janki.  "  Long  ago,  when 
my  father  was  here,  water  came  to  Ten  —  no, 
Eleven  —  cutting,  and  there  was  great  trouble. 
Let  us  get  away  to  where  the  air  is  better." 

The  three  gangs  and  the  basket-women  left 
Number  Nine  gallery  and  went  further  up  Num- 
ber Sixteen.  At  one  turn  of  the  road  they  could 
see  the  pitchy  black  water  lapping  on  the  coal.  It 
had  touched  the  roof  of  a  gallery  that  they  knew 

218 


AT  TWENTY-TWO 


well  —  a  gallery  where  they  used  to  smoke  their 
huq^as  and  manage  their  flirtations.  Seeing  this, 
they  called  aloud  upon  their  Gods,  and  the  Me- 
has,  who  are  thrice  bastard  Muhammadans,  strove 
to  recollect  the  name  of  the  Prophet.  They  came 
to  a  great  open  square  whence  nearly  all  the  coal 
had  been  extracted.  It  was  the  end  of  the  out- 
workings,  and  the  end  of  the  mine. 

Far  away  down  the  gallery  a  small  pumping- 
engine,  used  for  keeping  dry  a  deep  working  and 
fed  with  steam  from  above,  was  throbbing  faith- 
fully.   They  heard  it  cease. 

"  They  have  cut  off  the  steam,"  said  Kundoo 
hopefully.  "  They  have  given  the  order  to  use 
all  the  steam  for  the  pit-bank  pumps.  They  will 
clear  out  the  water." 

"  If  the  water  has  reached  the  smoking-gallery,'* 
said  Janki,  "  all  the  Company's  pumps  can  do  no- 
thing for  three  days." 

"  It  is  very  hot,"  moaned  Jasoda,  the  Meah 
basket-woman.  "  There  is  a  very  bad  air  here 
because  of  the  lamps." 

"  Put  them  out,"  said  Janki ;  "  why  do  you  want 
lamps  ?  "  The  lamps  were  put  out  and  the  com- 
pany sat  still  in  the  utter  dark.  Somebody  rose 
quietly  and  began  walking  over  the  coals.  It 
was  Janki,  who  was  touching  the  walls  with  his 
hands.  "  Where  is  the  ledge  ?  "  he  murmured  to 
himself 

219 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"  Sit,  sit !  "  said  Kundoo.  "  If  we  die,  we  die. 
The  air  is  very  bad." 

But  Janki  still  stumbled  and  crept  and  tapped 
with  his  pick  upon  the  walls.  The  women  rose 
to  their  feet. 

"  Stay  all  where  you  are.  Without  the  lamps 
you  cannot  see,  and  I — I  am  always  seeing,"  said 
Janki.  Then  he  paused,  and  called  out :  "  Oh, 
you  who  have  been  in  the  cutting  more  than  ten 
years,  what  is  the  name  of  this  open  place  I  am 
an  old  man  and  I  have  forgotten." 

"Bullia's  Room,"  answered  the  Sonthal  who 
had  complained  of  the  vileness  of  the  air, 

"  Again,"  said  Janki. 

"Bullia's  Room.'^ 

"  Then  I  have  found  it,"  said  Janki.  "  The 
name  only  had  slipped  my  memory.  Tibu's 
gang's  gallery  is  here." 

"  A  lie,"  said  Kundoo.  "  There  have  been  no 
galleries  in  this  place  since  my  day.'* 

"  Three  paces  was  the  depth  of  the  ledge," 
muttered  Janki  without  heeding  —  "and  —  ok, 
my  poor  bones!  —  I  have  found  it :  It  is  here,  up 
this  ledge.  Come  all  you,  one  by  one,  to  the 
place  of  my  voice,  and  I  will  count  you." 

There  was  a  rush  in  the  dark,  and  Janki  felt 
the  first  man's  face  hit  his  knees  as  the  Sonthal 
scrambled  up  the  ledge. 

"  Who  •?  "  cried  Janki. 

220 


AT  TWENTY-TWO 


"  I,  Sunua  Manji." 

"  Sit  you  down,"  said  Janki.    "  Who  next  ?  " 

One  by  one  the  women  and  the  men  crawled 
up  the  ledge  which  ran  along  one  side  of  "  Bullia's 
Room."  Degraded  Muhammadan,  pig-eating  Mu- 
sahr  and  wild  Sonthal,  Janki  ran  his  hand  over 
them  all. 

"Now  follow  after,"  said  he,  "catching  hold 
of  my  heel,  and  the  women  catching  the  men's 
clothes."  He  did  not  ask  whether  the  men  had 
brought  their  picks  with  them.  A  miner,  black 
or  white,  does  not  drop  his  pick.  One  by  one, 
Janki  leading,  they  crept  into  the  old  gallery  — 
a  six-foot  way  with  a  scant  four  feet  from  thill 
to  roof 

"  The  air  is  better  here,"  said  Jasoda.  They 
could  hear  her  heart  beating  in  thick,  sick  bumps. 

"  Slowly,  slowly,"  said  Janki.  "  I  am  an  old 
man,  and  I  forget  many  things.  This  is  Tibu's 
gallery,  but  where  are  the  four  bricks  where  they 
used  to  put  their  huqa  fire  on  when  the  Sahibs 
never  saw "?  Slowly,  slowly,  O  you  people  behind." 

They  heard  his  hands  disturbing  the  small  coal 
on  the  floor  of  the  gallery  and  then  a  dull  sound. 
"  This  is  one  unbaked  brick,  and  this  is  another 
and  another.  Kundoo  is  a  young  man  —  let  him 
come  forward.  Put  a  knee  upon  this  brick  and 
strike  here.  When  Tibu's  gang  were  at  dinner 
on  the  last  day  before  the  good  coal  ended,  they 

221 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


heard  the  men  of  Five  on  the  other  side,  and  Five 
worked  their  gallery  two  Sundays  later  —  or  it 
may  have  been  one.  Strike  there,  Kundoo,  but 
give  me  room  to  go  back." 

Kundoo,  doubting,  drove  the  pick,  but  the  first 
soft  crush  of  the  coal  was  a  call  to  him.  He  was 
fighting  for  his  life  and  for  Unda  —  pretty  little 
Unda  with  rings  on  all  her  toes  —  for  Unda  and 
the  forty  rupees.  The  women  sang  the  Song  of 
the  Pick  —  the  terrible,  slow,  swinging  melody 
with  the  muttered  chorus  that  repeats  the  sliding 
of  the  loosened  coal,  and,  to  each  cadence,  Kun- 
doo smote  in  the  black  dark.  When  he  could  do 
no  more,  Sunua  Manji  took  the  pick,  and  struck 
for  his  life  and  his  wife,  and  his  village  beyond  the 
blue  hills  over  the  Tarachunda  River.  An  hour 
the  men  worked,  and  then  the  women  cleared 
away  the  coal. 

"  It  is  farther  than  I  thought,"  said  Janki. 
"  The  air  is  very  bad ;  but  strike,  Kundoo,  strike 
hard." 

For  the  fifth  time  Kundoo  took  up  the  pick  as 
the  Sonthal  crawled  back.  The  song  had  scarcely 
recommenced  when  it  was  broken  by  a  yell  from 
Kundoo  that  echoed  down  the  gallery :  "  Far  hual 
Far  hual  We  are  through,  we  are  through  !  " 
The  imprisoned  air  in  the  mine  shot  through  the 
opening,  and  the  women  at  the  far  end  of  the  gal- 
lery heard  the  water  rush  through  the  pillars  of 

222 


AT  TWENTY-TWO 


"  BuUia's  Room  "  and  roar  against  the  ledge.  Hav- 
ing fulfilled  the  law  under  which  it  worked,  it  rose 
no  farther.  The  women  screamed  and  pressed  for- 
ward. "  The  water  has  come  —  we  shall  be  killed ! 
Let  us  go." 

Kundoo  crawled  through  the  gap  and  found 
himself  in  a  propped  gallery  by  the  simple  process 
of  hitting  his  head  against  a  beam. 

"  Do  I  know  the  pits  or  do  I  not  ?  "  chuckled 
Janki.  "  This  is  the  Number  Five ;  go  you  out 
slowly,  giving  me  your  names.  Ho !  Rahim, 
count  your  gang  I  Now  let  us  go  forward,  each 
catching  hold  of  the  other  as  before." 

They  formed  a  line  in  the  darkness  and  Janki 
led  them  —  for  a  pit-man  in  a  strange  pit  is  only 
one  degree  less  liable  to  err  than  an  ordinary  mor- 
tal underground  for  the  first  time.  At  last  they 
saw  a  flare-lamp,  and  Gangs  Janki,  Mogul,  and 
Rahim  of  Twenty-Two  stumbled  dazed  into  the 
glare  of  the  draught-furnace  at  the  bottom  of  Five : 
Janki  feeling  his  way  and  the  rest  behind. 

"  Water  has  come  into  Twenty-Two.  God 
knows  where  are  the  others.  I  have  brought  these 
men  from  Tibu's  gallery  in  our  cutting;  making 
connection  through  the  north  side  of  the  gallery. 
Take  us  to  the  cage,"  said  Janki  Meah. 

At  the  pit-bank  of  Twenty-Two  some  thousand 
people  clamoured  and  wept  and  shouted.  One 

223 


m  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


hundred  men  —  one  thousand  men  —  had  been 
drowned  in  the  cutting.  They  would  all  go  to 
their  homes  to-morrow.  Where  were  their  men 
Little  Unda,  her  cloth  drenched  with  the  rain, 
stood  at  the  pit-mouth,  calling  down  the  shaft  for 
Kundoo.  They  had  swung  the  cages  clear  of  the 
mouth,  and  her  only  answer  was  the  murmur  of 
the  flood  in  the  pit's  eye  two  hundred  and  sixty 
feet  below. 

"  Look  after  that  woman  !  She'll  chuck  herself 
down  the  shaft  in  a  minute,"  shouted  the  Manager. 

But  he  need  not  have  troubled ;  Unda  was  afraid 
of  Death.  She  wanted  Kundoo.  The  Assistant 
was  watching  the  flood  and  seeing  how  far  he 
could  wade  into  it.  There  was  a  lull  in  the  water, 
and  the  whirlpool  had  slackened.  The  mine  was 
full,  and  the  people  at  the  pit-bank  howled. 

"  My  faith,  we  shall  be  lucky  if  we  have  five 
hundred  hands  on  the  place  to-morrow ! "  said  the 
Manager.  "  There's  some  chance  yet  of  running 
a  temporary  dam  across  that  water.  Shove  in 
anything  —  tubs  and  bullock-carts  if  you  haven't 
enough  bricks.  Make  them  work  now  if  they 
never  worked  before.  Hi !  you  gangers,  make 
them  work." 

Little  by  little  the  crowd  was  broken  into  de- 
tachments, and  pushed  towards  the  water  with 
promises  of  overtime.  The  dam-making  began, 
and  when  it  was  fairly  under  way,  the  Manager 

224 


AT  TWENTY-TWO 


thought  that  the  hour  had  come  for  the  pumps. 
There  was  no  fresh  inrush  into  the  mine.  The 
tall,  red,  iron-clamped  pump-beam  rose  and  fell, 
and  the  pumps  snored  and  guttered  and  shrieked 
as  the  first  water  poured  out  of  the  pipe. 

"  We  must  run  her  all  to-night,"  said  the  Man- 
ager wearily,  "but  there's  no  hope  for  the  poor 
devils  down  below.  Look  here,  Gur  Sahai,  if  you 
are  proud  of  your  engines,  show  me  what  they  can 
do  now." 

Gur  Sahai  grinned  and  nodded,  with  his  right 
hand  upon  the  lever  and  an  oil-can  in  his  left.  He 
could  do  no  more  than  he  was  doing,  but  he  could 
keep  that  up  till  the  dawn.  Were  the  Company's 
pumps  to  be  beaten  by  the  vagaries  of  that  trou- 
blesome Tarachunda  River?  Never,  never!  And 
the  pumps  sobbed  and  panted :  "  Never,  never !  " 
The  Manager  sat  in  the  shelter  of  the  pit-bank 
roofing,  trying  to  dry  himself  by  the  pump-boiler 
fire,  and,  in  the  dreary  dusk,  he  saw  the  crowds  on 
the  dam  scatter  and  fly. 

"  That's  the  end,"  he  groaned.  "  'Twill  take  us 
six  weeks  to  persuade  'em  that  we  haven't  tried  to 
drown  their  mates  on  purpose.  Oh,  for  a  decent, 
rational  Geordie ! " 

But  the  flight  had  no  panic  in  it.  Men  had  run 
over  from  Five  with  astounding  news,  and  the 
foremen  could  not  hold  their  gangs  together. 
Presently,  surrounded  by  a  clamorous  crew.  Gangs 

225 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


Rahim,  Mogul,  and  Janki,  and  ten  basket-women 
walked  up  to  report  themselves,  and  pretty  little 
Unda  stole  away  to  Janki's  hut  to  prepare  his 
evening  meal. 

"  Alone  I  found  the  way,"  explained  Janki 
Meah,  "  and  now  will  the  Company  give  me  pen- 
sion ?  " 

The  simple  pit-folk  shouted  and  leaped  and 
went  back  to  the  dam,  reassured  in  their  old  belief 
that,  whatever  happened,  so  great  was  the  power 
of  the  Company  whose  salt  they  ate,  none  of  them 
could  be  killed.  But  Gur  Sahai  only  bared  his 
white  teeth  and  kept  his  hand  upon  the  lever  and 
proved  his  pumps  to  the  uttermost. 

"  I  say,"  said  the  Assistant  to  the  Manager,  a 
week  later,  "  do  you  recollect  '  Germinal '  ?  " 

"  Yes,  'Queer  thing.  I  thought  of  it  in  the 
cage  when  that  balk  went  by.    Why  ?  " 

"  Oh,  this  business  seems  to  be  '  Germinal '  up- 
side down.  Janki  was  in  my  verandah  all  this 
morning,  telling  me  that  Kundoo  had  eloped  with 
his  wife  —  Unda  or  Anda,  I  think  her  name  was." 

"  Hillo  I  And  those  were  the  cattle  that  you 
risked  your  life  to  clear  out  of  Twenty-Two ! " 

"  No  —  I  was  thinking  of  the  Company's  props, 
not  the  Company's  men." 

"  Sounds  better  to  say  so  now ;  but  I  don't  be- 
lieve you,  old  fellow." 

226 


JEWS  IN  SHUSHAN 


My  newly  purchased  house  furniture  was,  at  the 
least,  insecure ;  the  legs  parted  from  the  chairs,  and 
the  tops  from  the  tables,  on  the  slightest  provoca- 
tion. But  such  as  it  was,  it  was  to  be  paid  for, 
and  Ephraim,  agent  and  collector  for  the  local 
auctioneer,  waited  in  the  verandah  with  the  receipt. 
He  was  announced  by  the  Mahomedan  servant  as 
"Ephraim,  Yahudi" — Ephraim  the  Jew.  He 
who  believes  in  the  Brotherhood  of  Man  should 
hear  my  Elahi  Bukhsh  grinding  the  second  word 
through  his  white  teeth  with  all  the  scorn  he  dare 
show  before  his  master.  Ephraim  was,  personally, 
meek  in  manner  —  so  meek  indeed  that  one  could 
not  understand  how  he  had  fallen  into  the  profes- 
sion of  bill-collecting.  He  resembled  an  over-fed 
sheep,  and  his  voice  suited  his  figure.  There  was 
a  fixed,  unvarying  mask  of  childish  wonder  upon 
his  face.  If  you  paid  him,  he  was  as  one  marvel- 
ling at  your  wealth;  if  you  sent  him  away,  he 
seemed  puzzled  at  your  hard-heartedness.  Never 
was  Jew  more  unlike  his  dread  breed. 

Ephraim  wore  list  slippers  and  coats  of  duster- 


Copyright,  1891,  by  Macmillan  &  Co. 

227 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


cloth,  so  preposterously  patterned  that  the  most 
brazen  of  British  subalterns  would  have  shied  from 
them  in  fear.  Very  slow  and  deliberate  was  his 
speech,  and  carefully  guarded  to  give  offense  to 
no  one.  After  many  weeks,  Ephraim  was  induced 
to  speak  to  me  of  his  friends. 

"  There  be  eight  of  us  in  Shushan,  and  we  are 
waiting  till  there  are  ten.  Then  we  shall  apply 
for  a  synagogue,  and  get  leave  from  Calcutta. 
To-day  we  have  no  synagogue ;  and  I,  only  I,  am 
Priest  and  Butcher  to  our  people.  I  am  of  the 
tribe  of  Judah  —  I  think,  but  I  am  not  sure.  My 
father  was  of  the  tribe  of  Judah,  and  we  wish  much 
to  get  our  synagogue.  I  shall  be  a  priest  of  that 
synagogue." 

Shushan  is  a  big  city  in  the  North  of  India, 
counting  its  dwellers  by  the  ten  thousand;  and 
these  eight  of  the  Chosen  People  were  shut  up  in 
its  midst,  waiting  till  time  or  chance  sent  them 
their  full  congregation. 

Miriam,  the  wife  of  Ephraim,  two  little  children, 
an  orphan  boy  of  their  people,  Ephraim's  uncle 
Jackrael  Israel,  a  white-haired  old  man,  his  wife 
Hester,  a  Jew  from  Cutch,  one  Hyem  Benjamin, 
and  Ephraim,  Priest  and  Butcher,  made  up  the 
list  of  the  Jews  in  Shushan.  They  lived  in  one 
house,  on  the  outskirts  of  the  great  city,  amid 
heaps  of  saltpetre,  rotten  bricks,  herds  of  kine,  and 
a  fixed  pillar  of  dust  caused  by  the  incessant  pass- 

228 


JEWS  IN  SHUSHAN 


ing  of  the  beasts  to  the  river  to  drink.  In  the 
evening,  the  children  of  the  City  came  to  the 
waste  place  to  fly  their  kites,  and  Ephraim's  sons 
held  aloof,  watching  the  sport  from  the  roof,  but 
never  descending  to  take  part  in  it.  At  the 
back  of  the  house  stood  a  small  brick  enclosure, 
in  which  Ephraim  prepared  the  daily  meat  for  his 
people  after  the  custom  of  the  Jews.  Once  the 
rude  door  of  the  square  was  suddenly  smashed 
open  by  a  struggle  from  inside,  and  showed  the 
meek  bill-collector  at  his  work,  nostrils  dilated, 
lips  drawn  back  over  his  teeth,  and  his  hands  upon 
a  haif-maddened  sheep.  He  was  attired  in  strange 
raiment,  having  no  relation  whatever  to  duster 
coats  or  Hst  slippers,  and  a  knife  was  in  his  mouth. 
As  he  struggled  with  the  animal  between  the  walls, 
the  breath  came  from  him  in  thick  sobs,  and  the 
nature  of  the  man  seemed  changed.  When  the 
ordained  slaughter  was  ended,  he  saw  that  the 
door  was  open  and  shut  it  hastily,  his  hand  leaving 
a  red  mark  on  the  timber,  while  his  children  from 
the  neighbouring  house-top  looked  down  awe- 
stricken  and  open-eyed.  A  glimpse  of  Ephraim 
busied  in  one  of  his  religious  capacities  was  no 
thing  to  be  desired  twice. 

Summer  came  upon  Shushan,  turning  the  trod- 
den waste-ground  to  iron,  and  bringing  sickness 
to  the  city. 

"  It  will  not  touch  us,"  said  Ephraim  confi- 
229 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


dently.  "  Before  the  winter  we  shall  have  our 
synagogue.  My  brother  and  his  wife  and  children 
are  coming  up  from  Calcutta,  and  then  I  shall  be 
the  priest  of  the  synagogue." 

Jackrael  Israel,  the  old  man,  would  crawl  out  in 
the  stifling  evenings  to  sit  on  the  rubbish-heap  and 
watch  the  corpses  being  borne  down  to  the  river. 

"  It  will  not  come  near  us,"  said  Jackrael  Israel 
feebly,  "for  we  are  the  people  of  God,  and  my 
nephew  will  be  priest  of  our  synagogue.  Let 
them  die."  He  crept  back  to  his  house  again 
and  barred  the  door  to  shut  himself  off  from  the 
world  of  the  Gentile. 

But  Miriam,  the  wife  of  Ephraim,  looked  out 
of  the  window  at  the  dead  as  the  biers  passed,  and 
said  that  she  was  afraid.  Ephraim  comforted  her 
with  hopes  of  the  synagogue  to  be,  and  collected 
bills  as  was  his  custom. 

In  one  night  the  two  children  died  and  were 
buried  early  in  the  morning  by  Ephraim.  The 
deaths  never  appeared  in  the  City  returns.  "  The 
sorrow  is  my  sorrow,"  said  Ephraim ;  and  this  to 
him  seemed  a  sufficient  reason  for  setting  at  naught 
the  sanitary  regulations  of  a  large,  flourishing,  and 
remarkably  well-governed  Empire. 

The  orphan  boy,  dependent  on  the  charity  of 
Ephraim  and  his  wife,  could  have  felt  no  grati-. 
tude,  and  must  have  been  a  ruffian.  He  begged 
for  whatever  money  his  protectors  would  give  him, 

230 


JEWS  IN  SHUSHAN 


and  with  that  fled  down  country  for  his  life.  A 
week  after  the  death  of  her  children  Miriam  left 
her  bed  at  night  and  wandered  over  the  country 
to  find  them.  She  heard  them  crying  behind 
every  bush,  or  drowning  in  every  pool  of  water 
in  the  fields,  and  she  begged  the  cartmen  on  the 
Grand  Trunk  Road  not  to  steal  her  little  ones 
from  her.  In  the  morning  the  sun  rose  and  beat 
upon  her  bare  head,  and  she  turned  into  the  cool, 
wet  crops  to  lie  down,  and  never  came  back, 
though  Hyem  Benjamin  and  Ephraim  sought  her 
for  two  nights. 

The  look  of  patient  wonder  on  Ephraim's  face 
deepened,  but  he  presently  found  an  explanation. 
"  There  are  so  few  of  us  here,  and  these  people  are 
so  many,"  said  he,  "  that,  it  may  be,  our  God  has 
forgotten  us." 

In  the  house  on  the  outskirts  of  the  city  old 
Jackrael  Israel  and  Hester  grumbled  that  there 
was  no  one  to  wait  on  them,  and  that  Miriam  had 
been  untrue  to  her  race.  Ephraim  went  out  and 
collected  bills,  and  in  the  evenings  smoked  with 
Hyem  Benjamin  till,  one  dawning,  Hyem  Benja- 
min died,  having  first  paid  all  his  debts  to  Ephraim. 
Jackrael  Israel  and  Hester  sat  alone  in  the  empty 
house  all  day,  and,  when  Ephraim  returned,  wept 
the  easy  tears  of  age  till  they  cried  themselves 
asleep. 

A  week  later  Ephraim,  staggering  under  a  huge 
231 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


bundle  of  clothes  and  cooking-pots,  led  the  old 
man  and  woman  to  the  railway  station,  where  the 
bustle  and  confusion  made  them  whimper. 

"  We  are  going  back  to  Calcutta,"  said  Ephraim, 
to  whose  sleeve  Hester  was  clinging.  "  There  are 
more  of  us  there,  and  here  my  house  is  empty." 

He  helped  Hester  into  the  carriage  and,  turning 
back,  said  to  me,  "  I  should  have  been  priest  of 
the  synagogue  if  there  had  been  ten  of  us.  Surely 
we  must  have  been  forgotten  by  our  God." 

The  remnant  of  the  broken  colony  passed  out 
of  the  station  on  their  journey  south ;  while  a  sub- 
altern, turning  over  the  books  on  the  bookstall, 
was  whistling  to  himself  "  The  Ten  Little  Nigger 
Boys." 

But  the  tune  sounded  as  solemn  as  the  Dead 
March. 

It  was  the  dirge  of  the  Jews  in  Shushan. 


232 


GEORGIE  PORGIE 


Georgie  Porgie,  pudding  and  pie. 
Kissed  the  girls  and  made  them  cry. 
When  the  girls  came  out  to  play 
Georgie  Porgie  ran  away. 

If  you  will  admit  that  a  man  has  no  right  to  en- 
ter his  drawing-room  early  in  the  morning,  when 
the  housemaid  is  setting  things  right  and  clearing 
away  the  dust,  you  will  concede  that  civilised 
people  who  eat  out  of  china  and  own  card-cases 
have  no  right  to  apply  their  standard  of  right  and 
wrong  to  an  unsettled  land.  When  the  place  is 
made  fit  for  their  reception,  by  those  men  who  are 
told  off  to  the  work,  they  can  come  up,  bringing 
in  their  trunks  their  own  society  and  the  Deca- 
logue, and  all  the  other  apparatus.  Where  the 
Queen's  Law  does  not  carry,  it  is  irrational  to  ex- 
pect an  observance  of  other  and  weaker  rules. 
The  men  who  run  ahead  of  the  cars  of  Decency 
and  Propriety,  and  make  the  jungle  ways  straight, 
cannot  be  judged  in  the  same  manner  as  the  stay- 
at-home  folk  of  the  ranks  of  the  regular  '^chin. 
Not  many  months  ago  the  Queen's  Law  stopped 


Copyright,  1891,  by  Macmillan  &  Co. 

^33 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


a  few  miles  north  of  Thayetmyo  on  the  Irrawaddy. 
There  was  no  very  strong  Public  Opinion  up  to 
that  limit,  but  it  existed  to  keep  men  in  order. 
When  the  Government  said  that  the  Queen's  Law 
must  carry  up  to  Bhamo  and  the  Chinese  border,  the 
order  was  given,  and  some  men  whose  desire  was 
to  be  ever  a  little  in  advance  of  the  rush  of  Re- 
spectability flocked  forward  with  the  troops.  These 
were  the  men  who  could  never  pass  examinations, 
and  would  have  been  too  pronounced  in  their 
ideas  for  the  administration  of  bureau-worked  Pro- 
vinces. The  Supreme  Government  stepped  in  as 
soon  as  might  be,  with  codes  and  regulations,  and  all 
but  reduced  New  Burma  to  the  dead  Indian  level ; 
but  there  was  a  short  time  during  which  strong  men 
were  necessary  and  ploughed  a  field  for  themselves. 

Among  the  fore-runners  of  Civilisation  was 
Georgie  Porgie,  reckoned  by  all  who  knew  him 
a  strong  man.  He  held  an  appointment  in  Lower 
Burma  when  the  order  came  to  break  the  Frontier, 
and  his  friends  called  him  Georgie  Porgie  because 
of  the  singularly  Burmes'^-like  manner  in  which  he 
sang  a  song  whose  first  line  is  something  like  the 
words  "Georgie  Porgie."  Most  men  who  have 
been  in  Burma  will  know  the  song.  It  means: 
"  Puflf,  puflf,  puff,  puff,  great  steamboat ! "  Georgie 
sang  it  to  his  banjo,  and  his  friends  shouted  with 
delight,  so  that  you  could  hear  them  far  away  in 
the  teak-forest. 

234 


GEORGIE  PORGIE 


When  he  went  to  Upper  Burma  he  had  no  spe- 
cial regard  for  God  or  Man,  but  he  knew  how  to 
make  himself  respected,  and  to  carry  out  the  mixed 
Military-Civil  duties  that  fell  to  most  men's  share 
in  those  months.  He  did  his  office  work  and  en- 
tertained, now  and  again,  the  detachments  of  fever- 
shaken  soldiers  who  blundered  through  his  part  of 
the  world  in  search  of  a  flying  party  of  dacoits. 
Sometimes  he  turned  out  and  dressed  down  da- 
coits on  his  own  account ;  for  the  country  was  still 
smouldering  and  would  blaze  when  least  expected. 
He  enjoyed  these  charivaris,  but  the  dacoits  were 
not  so  amused.  All  the  officials  who  came  in  con- 
tact with  him  departed  with  the  idea  that  Georgie 
Porgie  was  a  valuable  person,  well  able  to  take 
care  of  himself,  and,  on  that  belief,  he  was  left  to 
his  own  devices. 

At  the  end  of  a  few  months  he  wearied  of  his 
solitude,  and  cast  about  for  company  and  refine- 
ment. The  Queen's  Law  had  hardly  begun  to  be 
felt  in  the  country,  and  Public  Opinion,  which  is 
more  powerful  than  the  Queen's  Law,  had  yet  to 
come.  Also,  there  was  a  custom  in  the  country 
which  allowed  a  white  man  to  take  to  himself  a 
wife  of  the  Daughters  of  Heth  upon  due  payment. 
The  marriage  was  not  quite  so  binding  as  is  the 
nikkah  ceremony  among  Mahomedans,  but  the  wife 
was  very  pleasant. 

When  all  our  troops  are  back  from  Burma  there 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


will  be  a  proverb  in  their  mouths,  "  As  thrifty  as 
a  Burmese  wife,"  and  pretty  English  ladies  will 
wonder  what  in  the  world  it  means. 

The  headman  of  the  village  next  to  Georgie 
Porgie's  post  had  a  fair  daughter  who  had  seen 
Georgie  Porgie  and  loved  him  from  afar.  When 
news  went  abroad  that  the  Englishman  with  the 
heavy  hand  who  lived  in  the  stockade  was  looking 
for  a  housekeeper,  the  headman  came  in  and  ex- 
plained that,  for  five  hundred  rupees  down,  he 
would  entrust  his  daughter  to  Georgie  Porgie's 
keeping,  to  be  maintained  in  all  honour,  respect, 
and  comfort,  with  pretty  dresses,  according  to  the 
custom  of  the  country.  This  thing  was  done,  and 
Georgie  Porgie  never  repented  it. 

He  found  his  rough-and-tumble  house  put 
straight  and  made  comfortable,  his  hitherto  un- 
checked expenses  cut  down  by  one  half,  and  him- 
self petted  and  made  much  of  by  his  new  acquisi- 
tion, who  sat  at  the  head  of  his  table  and  sang 
songs  to  him  and  ordered  his  Madrassee  servants 
about,  and  was  in  every  way  as  sweet  and  merry 
and  honest  and  winning  a  little  woman  as  the  most 
exacting  of  bachelors  could  have  desired.  No 
race,  men  say  who  know,  produces  such  good 
wives  and  heads  of  households  as  the  Burmese. 
When  the  next  detachment  tramped  by  on  the 
war-path  the  Subaltern  in  Command  found  at 
Georgie  Porgie's  table  a  hostess  to  be  deferential 

236 


GEORGIE  PORGIE 


to,  a  woman  to  be  treated  in  every  way  as  one 
occupying  an  assured  position.  When  he  gath- 
ered his  men  together  next  dawn  and  replunged 
into  the  jungle,  he  thought  regretfully  of  the  nice 
little  dinner  and  the  pretty  face,  and  envied  Geor- 
gie  Porgie  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart.  Yet  he 
was  engaged  to  a  girl  at  Home,  and  that  is  how 
some  men  are  constructed. 

The  Burmese  girl's  name  was  not  a  pretty  one ; 
but  as  she  was  promptly  christened  Georgina 
by  Georgie  Porgie,  the  blemish  did  not  matter. 
Georgie  Porgie  thought  well  of  the  petting  and 
the  general  comfort,  and  vowed  that  he  had  never 
spent  five  hundred  rupees  to  a  better  end. 

After  three  months  of  domestic  life,  a  great  idea 
struck  him.  Matrimony — English  matrimony — 
could  not  be  such  a  bad  thing  after  all.  If  he 
were  so  thoroughly  comfortable  at  the  Back  of 
Beyond  with  this  Burmese  girl  who  smoked  che- 
roots, how  much  more  comfortable  would  he  be 
with  a  sweet  English  maiden  who  would  not 
smoke  cheroots,  and  would  play  upon  a  piano 
instead  of  a  banjo?  Also  he  had  a  desire  to  return 
to  his  kind,  to  hear  a  Band  once  more,  and  to  feel 
how  it  felt  to  wear  a  dress-suit  again.  Decidedly, 
Matrimony  would  be  a  very  good  thing.  He 
thought  the  matter  out  at  length  of  evenings, 
while  Georgina  sang  to  him,  or  asked  him  why 
he  was  so  silent,  and  whether  she  had  done  any- 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


thing  to  offend  him.  As  he  thought  he  smoked, 
and  as  he  smoked  he  looked  at  Georgina,  and  in 
his  fancy  turned  her  into  a  fair,  thrifty,  amusing, 
merry  Httle  English  girl,  with  hair  coming  low 
down  on  her  forehead,  and  perhaps  a  cigarette  be- 
tween her  lips.  Certainly  not  a  big,  thick,  Burma 
cheroot,  of  the  brand  that  Georgina  smoked.  He 
would  wed  a  girl  with  Georgina's  eyes  and  most 
of  her  ways.  But  not  all.  She  could  be  improved 
upon.  Then  he  blew  thick  smoke-wreaths  through 
his  nostrils  and  stretched  himself  He  would  taste 
marriage.  Georgina  had  helped  him  to  save 
money,  and  there  were  six  months'  leave  due  to 
him. 

"  See  here,  little  woman,"  he  said,  "  we  must 
put  by  more  money  for  these  next  three  months. 
I  want  it."  That  was  a  direct  slur  on  Georgina's 
housekeeping ;  for  she  prided  herself  on  her  thrift  ; 
but  since  her  God  wanted  money  she  would  do 
her  best. 

"  You  want  money  ? "  she  said  with  a  little 
laugh.  "  I  have  money.  Look  ! "  She  ran  to  her 
own  room  and  fetched  out  a  small  bag  of  rupees. 
"Of  all  that  you  give  me,  I  keep  back  some. 
See !  One  hundred  and  seven  rupees.  Can  you 
want  more  money  than  that  ?  Take  it.  It  is  my 
pleasure  if  you  use  it."  She  spread  out  the  money 
on  the  table  and  pushed  it  towards  him  with  her 
quick,  little,  pale  yellow  fingers. 

238 


GEORGIE  PORGIE 


Georgie  Porgie  never  referred  to  economy  in 
the  household  again. 

Three  months  later,  after  the  despatch  and  re- 
ceipt of  several  mysterious  letters  which  Georgina 
could  not  understand,  and  hated  for  that  reason, 
Georgie  Porgie  said  that  he  was  going  away  and 
she  must  return  to  her  father's  house  and  stay 
there. 

Georgina  wept.  She  would  go  with  her  God 
from  the  world's  end  to  the  world's  end.  Why 
should  she  leave  him      She  loved  him. 

1  am  only  going  to  Rangoon,"  said  Georgie 
Porgie.  "  I  shall  be  back  in  a  month,  but  it  is 
safer  to  stay  with  your  father.  I  will  leave  you 
two  hundred  rupees." 

"  If  you  go  for  a  month,  what  need  of  two  hun- 
dred^ Fifty  are  more  than  enough.  There  is 
some  evil  here.  Do  not  go,  or  at  least  let  me  go 
with  you." 

Georgie  Porgie  does  not  like  to  remember  that 
scene  even  at  this  date.  In  the  end  he  got  rid  of 
Georgina  by  a  compromise  of  seventy-five  rupees. 
She  would  not  take  more.  Then  he  went  by 
steamer  and  rail  to  Rangoon. 

The  mysterious  letters  had  granted  him  six 
months'  leave.  The  actual  flight  and  an  idea  that 
he  might  have  been  treacherous  hurt  severely  at 
the  time,  but  as  soon  as  the  big  steamer  was  well 
out  into  the  blue,  things  were  easier,  and  Georgina's 

239 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


face,  and  the  queer  little  stockaded  house,  and  the 
memory  of  the  rushes  of  shouting  dacoits  by  night, 
the  cry  and  struggle  of  the  first  man  that  he  had 
ever  killed  with  his  own  hand,  and  a  hundred  other 
more  intimate  things,  faded  and  faded  out  of 
Georgie  Porgie's  heart,  and  the  vision  of  approach- 
ing England  took  its  place.  The  steamer  was  full 
of  men  on  leave,  all  rampantly  jovial  souls  who 
had  shaken  off  the  dust  and  sweat  of  Upper  Burma 
and  were  as  merry  as  schoolboys.  They  helped 
Georgie  Porgie  to  forget. 

Then  came  England  with  its  luxuries  and  de- 
cencies and  comforts,  and  Georgie  Porgie  walked 
in  a  pleasant  dream  upon  pavements  of  which  he 
had  nearly  forgotten  the  ring,  wondering  why  men 
in  their  senses  ever  left  Town.  He  accepted  his 
keen  delight  in  his  furlough  as  the  reward  of  his 
services.  Providence  further  arranged  for  him 
another  and  greater  delight  —  all  the  pleasures  of 
a  quiet  English  wooing,  quite  different  from  the 
brazen  businesses  of  the  East,  when  half  the  com- 
munity stand  back  and  bet  on  the  result,  and  the 
other  half  wonder  what  Mrs.  So-and-So  will  say 
to  it. 

It  was  a  pleasant  girl  and  a  perfect  summer,  and 
a  big  country-house  near  Petworth  where  there  are 
acres  and  acres  of  purple  heather  and  high-grassed 
water-meadows  to  wander  through.  Georgie  Por- 
gie felt  that  he  had  at  last  found  something  worth 

240 


GEORGIE  PORGIE 


the  living  for,  and  naturally  assumed  that  the  next 
thing  to  do  was  to  ask  the  girl  to  share  his  life  in 
India.  She,  in  her  ignorance,  was  willing  to  go. 
On  this  occasion  there  was  no  bartering  with  a 
village  headman.  There  was  a  fine  middle-class 
wedding  in  the  country,  with  a  stout  Papa  and  a 
weeping  Mamma,  and  a  best  man  in  purple  and 
fine  linen,  and  six  snub-nosed  girls  from  the  Sun- 
day-School to  throw  roses  on  the  path  between 
the  tombstones  up  to  the  Church  door.  The  local 
paper  described  the  affair  at  great  length,  even 
down  to  giving  the  hymns  in  full.  But  that  was 
because  the  Direction  were  starving  for  want  of 
material. 

Then  came  a  honeymoon  at  Arundel,  and  the 
Mamma  wept  copiously  before  she  allowed  her 
one  daughter  to  sail  away  to  India  under  the  care 
of  Georgie  Porgie  the  Bridegroom.  Beyond  any 
question,  Georgie  Porgie  was  immensely  fond  of 
his  wife,  and  she  was  devoted  to  him  as  the  best 
and  greatest  man  in  the  world.  When  he  reported 
himself  at  Bombay  he  felt  justified  in  demanding 
a  good  station  for  his  wife's  sake ;  and,  because  he 
had  made  a  little  mark  in  Burma  and  was  begin- 
ning to  be  appreciated,  they  allowed  him  nearly 
all  that  he  asked  for,  and  posted  him  to  a  station 
which  we  will  call  Sutrain.  It  stood  upon  sev- 
eral hills,  and  was  styled  officially  a  "  Sanitarium," 
for  the  good  reason  that  the  drainage  was  utterly 

241 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


neglected.  Here  Georgie  Porgie  settled  down, 
and  found  married  life  come  very  naturally  to  him. 
He  did  not  rave,  as  do  many  bridegrooms,  over 
the  strangeness  and  delight  of  seeing  his  own  true 
love  sitting  down  to  breakfast  with  him  every 
morning  "  as  though  it  were  the  most  natural  thing 
in  the  world."  "  He  had  been  there  before,"  as  the 
Americans  say,  and,  checking  the  merits  of  his 
own  present  grace  by  those  of  Georgina,  he  was 
more  and  more  inclined  to  think  that  he  had  done 
well. 

But  there  was  no  peace  or  comfort  across  the 
Bay  of  Bengal,  under  the  teak-trees  where  Geor- 
gina lived  with  her  father,  waiting  for  Georgie 
Porgie  to  return.  The  headman  was  old,  and  re- 
membered the  war  of  '51.  He  had  been  to  Ran- 
goon, and  knew  something  of  the  ways  of  the 
Kullahs,  Sitting  in  front  of  his  door  in  the  even- 
ings, he  taught  Georgina  a  dry  philosophy  which 
did  not  console  her  in  the  least. 

The  trouble  was  that  she  loved  Georgie  Porgie 
just  as  much  as  the  French  girl  in  the  English 
History  books  loved  the  priest  whose  head  was 
broken  by  the  King's  bullies.  One  day  she  dis- 
appeared from  the  village,  with  all  the  rupees  that 
Georgie  Porgie  had  given  her,  and  a  very  small 
smattering  of  English — also  gained  from  Georgie 
Porgie. 

The  headman  was  angry  at  first,  but  lit  a  fresh 
242 


GEORGIE  PORGIE 


cheroot  and  said  something  uncomplimentary 
about  the  sex  in  general.  Georgina  had  started 
on  a  search  for  Georgie  Porgie,  who  might  be  in 
Rangoon,  or  across  the  Black  Water,  or  dead,  for 
aught  that  she  knew.  Chance  favoured  her.  An 
old  Sikh  policeman  told  her  that  Georgie  Porgie 
had  crossed  the  Black  Water.  She  took  a  steer- 
age-passage from  Rangoon  and  went  to  Calcutta, 
keeping  the  secret  of  her  search  to  herself 

In  India  every  trace  of  her  was  lost  for  six 
weeks,  and  no  one  knows  what  trouble  of  heart 
she  must  have  undergone. 

She  reappeared,  four  hundred  miles  north  of 
Calcutta,  steadily  heading  northwards,  very  worn 
and  haggard,  but  very  fixed  in  her  determination 
to  find  Georgie  Porgie.  She  could  not  understand 
the  language  of  the  people ;  but  India  is  infinitely 
charitable,  and  the  women-folk  along  the  Grand 
Trunk  gave  her  food.  Something  made  her  be- 
lieve that  Georgie  Porgie  was  to  be  found  at  the 
end  of  that  pitiless  road.  She  may  have  seen  a 
sepoy  who  knew  him  in  Burma,  but  of  this  no 
one  can  be  certain.  At  last  she  found  a  regiment 
on  the  line  of  march,  and  met  there  one  of  the 
many  subalterns  whom  Georgie  Porgie  had  in- 
vited to  dinner  in  the  far-off,  old  days  of  the 
dacoit-hunting.  There  was  a  certain  amount 
of  amusement  among  the  tents  when  Georgina 
threw  herself  at  the  man's  feet  and  began  to  cry. 

243 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


There  was  no  amusement  when  her  story  was 
told;  but  a  collection  was  made,  and  that  was 
more  to  the  point.  One  of  the  subalterns  knew 
of  Georgie  Porgie's  whereabouts,  but  not  of  his 
marriage.  So  he  told  Georgina  and  she  went  her 
way  joyfully  to  the  north,  in  a  railway  carriage 
where  there  was  rest  for  tired  feet  and  shade  for  a 
dusty  little  head.  The  marches  from  the  train 
through  the  hills  into  Sutrain  were  trying,  but 
Georgina  had  money,  and  families  journeying  in 
bullock-carts  gave  her  help.  It  was  an  almost 
miraculous  journey,  and  Georgina  felt  sure  that 
the  good  spirits  of  Burma  were  looking  after  her. 
The  hill-road  to  Sutrain  is  a  chilly  stretch,  and 
Georgina  caught  a  bad  cold.  Still  there  was 
Georgie  Porgie  at  the  end  of  all  the  trouble  to 
take  her  up  in  his  arms  and  pet  her,  as  he  used 
to  do  in  the  old  days  when  the  stockade  was  shut 
for  the  night  and  he  had  approved  of  the  evening 
meal.  Georgina  went  forward  as  fast  as  she  could ; 
and  her  good  spirits  did  her  one  last  favour. 

An  Englishman  stopped  her,  in  the  twilight, 
just  at  the  turn  of  the  road  into  Sutrain,  saying, 
Good  Heavens  !   What  are  you  doing  here  '* 

He  was  Gillis,  the  man  who  had  been  Georgie 
Porgie's  assistant  in  Upper  Burma,  and  who  oc- 
cupied the  next  post  to  Georgie  Porgie's  in  the 
jungle.  Georgie  Porgie  had  applied  to  have  him 
to  work  with  at  Sutrain  because  he  liked  him. 

244 


GEORGIE  PORGIE 


"  I  have  come,"  said  Georgina  simply.  "  It  was 
such  a  long  way,  and  I  have  been  months  in  com- 
ing.   Where  is  his  house  ^  " 

Gillis  gasped.  He  had  seen  enough  of  Geor- 
gina in  the  old  times  to  know  that  explanations 
would  be  useless.  You  cannot  explain  things  to 
the  Oriental.    You  must  show. 

"  I'll  take  you  there,"  said  Gillis,  and  he  led 
Georgina  off  the  road,  up  the  clifF,  by  a  little  path- 
way, to  the  back  of  a  house  set  on  a  platform  cut 
into  the  hillside. 

The  lamps  were  just  lit,  but  the  curtains  were 
not  drawn.  "Now  look,"  said  Gillis,  stopping 
in  front  of  the  drawing-room  window.  Georgina 
looked  and  saw  Georgie  Porgie  and  the  Bride. 

She  put  her  hand  up  to  her  hair,  which  had  come 
out  of  its  top-knot  and  was  straggling  about  her 
face.  She  tried  to  set  her  ragged  dress  in  order, 
but  the  dress  was  past  pulling  straight,  and  she 
coughed  a  queer  little  cough,  for  she  really  had 
taken  a  very  bad  cold.  Gillis  looked,  too,  but 
while  Georgina  only  looked  at  the  Bride  once, 
turning  her  eyes  always  on  Georgie  Porgie,  Gillis 
looked  at  the  Bride  all  the  time. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ^  "  said  Gillis,  who 
held  Georgina  by  the  wrist,  in  case  of  any  unex- 
pected rush  into  the  lamplight.  "  Will  you  go 
in  and  tell  that  English  woman  that  you  lived 
with  her  husband " 

245 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"  No,"  said  Georgina  faintly.  "  Let  me  go.  I 
am  going  away.  I  swear  that  I  am  going  away." 
She  twisted  herself  free  and  ran  off  into  the  dark. 

"  Poor  little  beast !  "  said  Gillis,  dropping  on  to 
the  main  road.  "  I'd  ha'  given  her  something  to 
get  back  to  Burma  with.  What  a  narrow  shave, 
though !  And  that  angel  would  never  have  for- 
given it." 

This  seems  to  prove  that  the  devotion  of  Gillis 
was  not  entirely  due  to  his  affection  for  Georgie 
Porgie. 

The  Bride  and  the  Bridegroom  came  out  into 
the  verandah  after  dinner,  in  order  that  the  smoke 
of  Georgie  Porgie's  cheroots  might  not  hang  in 
the  new  drawing-room  curtains. 

"  What  is  that  noise  down  there  ? "  said  the 
Bride.    Both  listened. 

"  Oh,"  said  Georgie  Porgie,  "  I  suppose  some 
brute  of  a  hillman  has  been  beating  his  wife." 

"Beating — his — wife!  How  ghastly!"  said 
the  Bride.  "  Fancy  your  beating  me!  "  She  slipped 
an  arm  round  her  husband's  waist,  and,  leaning 
her  head  against  his  shoulder,  looked  out  across 
the  cloud-filled  valley  in  deep  content  and  security. 

But  it  was  Georgina  crying,  all  by  herself,  down 
the  hillside,  among  the  stones  of  the  water-course 
where  the  washermen  wash  the  clothes. 


246 


LITTLE  TOBRAH 


"  Prisoner's  head  did  not  reach  to  the  top  of  the 
dock,"  as  the  English  newspapers  say.  This  case, 
however,  was  not  reported  because  nobody  cared 
by  so  much  as  a  hempen  rope  for  the  h'fe  or  death 
of  Little  Tobrah.  The  assessors  in  the  red  court- 
house sat  upon  him  all  through  the  long  hot  after- 
noon, and  whenever  they  asked  him  a  question  he 
salaamed  and  whined.  Their  verdict  was  that  the 
evidence  was  inconclusive,  and  the  Judge  con- 
curred. It  was  true  that  the  dead  body  of  Little 
Tobrah's  sister  had  been  found  at  the  bottom  of 
the  well,  and  Little  Tobrah  was  the  only  human 
being  within  a  half-mile  radius  at  the  time;  but 
the  child  might  have  fallen  in  by  accident.  There- 
fore Little  Tobrah  was  acquitted,  and  told  to  go 
where  he  pleased.  This  permission  was  not  so 
generous  as  it  sounds,  for  he  had  nowhere  to  go 
to,  nothing  in  particular  to  eat,  and  nothing  what- 
ever to  wear. 

He  trotted  into  the  court-compound,  and  sat 
upon  the  well-curb,  wondering  whether  an  un- 
successful dive  into  the  black  water  below  would 


Copyright,  1891,  by  Macmillan  &  Co. 

247 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


end  in  a  forced  voyage  across  the  other  Black 
Water.  A  groom  put  down  an  emptied  nose-bag 
on  the  bricks,  and  Little  Tobrah,  being  hungry, 
set  himself  to  scrape  out  what  wet  grain  the  horse 
had  overlooked. 

"O  Thief — and  but  newly  set  free  from  the 
terror  of  the  Law !  Come  along ! "  said  the  groom, 
and  Little  Tobrah  was  led  by  the  ear  to  a  large 
and  fat  Englishman,  who  heard  the  tale  of  the 
theft. 

"Hah!"  said  the  Englishman  three  times  (only 
he  said  a  stronger  word).  "  Put  him  into  the  net 
and  take  him  home."  So  Little  Tobrah  was  thrown 
into  the  net  of  the  cart,  and,  nothing  doubting  that 
he  should  be  stuck  like  a  pig,  was  driven  to  the 
Englishman's  house.  "  Hah  !  "  said  the  English- 
man as  before.  "  Wet  grain,  by  Jove  !  Feed 
the  little  beggar,  some  of  you,  and  we'll  make  a 
riding-boy  of  him  ?  See     Wet  grain,  good  Lord ! " 

"Give  an  account  of  yourself,"  said  the  head 
of  the  Grooms  to  Little  Tobrah  after  the  meal  had 
been  eaten  and  the  servants  lay  at  ease  in  their 
quarters  behind  the  house.  "  You  are  not  of  the 
groom  caste,  unless  it  be  for  the  stomach's  sake. 
How  came  you  into  the  court,  and  why  ?  Answer, 
little  devil's  spawn !  " 

"  There  was  not  enough  to  eat,"  said  Little 
Tobrah  calmly.    "  This  is  a  good  place." 

"  Talk  straight  talk,"  said  the  Head  Groom, 
248 


LITTLE  TOBRAH 


"  or  I  will  make  you  clean  out  the  stable  of  that 
large  red  stallion  who  bites  like  a  camel." 

"  We  be  T^elis^  oil-pressers,"  said  Little  Tobrah, 
scratching  his  toes  in  the  dust.  "  We  were  '^elis 
—  my  father,  my  mother,  my  brother,  the  elder  by 
four  years,  myself,  and  the  sister." 

"  She  who  was  found  dead  in  the  well  ?  "  said 
one  who  had  heard  something  of  the  trial. 

"  Even  so,"  said  Little  Tobrah  gravely.  "  She 
who  was  found  dead  in  the  well.  It  befell  upon  a 
time,  which  is  not  in  my  memory,  that  the  sick- 
ness came  to  the  village  where  our  oil-press  stood, 
and  first  my  sister  was  smitten  as  to  her  eyes,  and 
went  without  sight,  for  it  was  mata  —  the  small- 
pox. Thereafter,  my  father  and  my  mother  died 
of  that  same  sickness,  so  we  were  alone  —  my 
brother  who  had  twelve  years,  I  who  had  eight, 
and  the  sister  who  could  not  see.  Yet  were  there 
the  bullock  and  the  oil-press  remaining,  and  we 
made  shift  to  press  the  oil  as  before.  But  Surjun 
Dass,  the  grain-seller,  cheated  us  in  his  dealings; 
and  it  was  always  a  stubborn  bullock  to  drive. 
We  put  marigold  flowers  for  the  Gods  upon  the 
neck  of  the  bullock,  and  upon  the  great  grinding- 
beam  that  rose  through  the  roof;  but  we  gained 
nothing  thereby,  and  Surjun  Dass  was  a  hard  man." 

''''  Bapri-bap"  muttered  the  grooms'  wives,  "to 
cheat  a  child  so !  But  we  know  what  the  hunnia" 
folk  are,  sisters." 

249 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"  The  press  was  an  old  press,  and  we  were  not 
strong  men  —  my  brother  and  I ;  nor  could  we  fix 
the  neck  of  the  beam  firmly  in  the  shackle." 

"Nay,  indeed,"  said  the  gorgeously-clad  wife 
of  the  Head  Groom,  joining  the  circle.  "  That  is 
a  strong  man's  work.  When  I  was  a  maid  in  my 
father's  house  " 

"  Peace,  woman,"  said  the  Head  Groom.  "  Go 
on,  boy."^ 

"  It  is  nothing,"  said  Little  Tobrah.  "  The  big 
beam  tore  down  the  roof  upon  a  day  which  is  not 
in  my  memory,  and  with  the  roof  fell  much  of  the 
hinder  wall,  and  both  together  upon  our  bullock, 
whose  back  was  broken.  Thus  we  had  neither 
home,  nor  press,  nor  bullock  —  my  brother,  my- 
self, and  the  sister  who  was  blind.  We  went  cry- 
ing away  from  that  place,  hand-in-hand,  across  the 
fields;  and  our  money  was  seven  annas  and  six 
pie.  There  was  a  famine  in  the  land.  I  do  not 
know  the  name  of  the  land.  So,  on  a  night  when 
we  were  sleeping,  my  brother  took  the  five  annas 
that  remained  to  us  and  ran  away.  I  do  not  know 
whither  he  went.  The  curse  of  my  father  be  upon 
him.  But  I  and  the  sister  begged  food  in  the  vil- 
lages, and  there  was  none  to  give.  Only  all  men 
said  — '  Go  to  the  Englishmen  and  they  will  give.' 
I  did  not  know  what  the  Englishmen  were ;  but 
they  said  that  they  were  white,  living  in  tents.  I 
went  forward ;  but  I  cannot  say  whither  I  went, 

250 


LITTLE  TOBRAH 


and  there  was  no  more  food  for  myself  or  the  sister. 
And  upon  a  hot  night,  she  weeping  and  calling 
for  food,  we  came  to  a  well,  and  I  bade  her  sit 
upon  the  curb,  and  thrust  her  in,  for,  in  truth,  she 
could  not  see;  and  it  is  better  to  die  than  to 
starve." 

"  Ai !  Ahi ! "  wailed  the  grooms'  wives  in  cho- 
rus ;  "  he  thrust  her  in,  for  it  is  better  to  die  than 
to  starve  I " 

"  I  would  have  thrown  myself  in  also,  but  that 
she  was  not  dead  and  called  to  me  from  the  bot- 
tom of  the  well,  and  1  was  afraid  and  ran.  And 
one  came  out  of  the  crops  saying  that  I  had  killed 
her  and  defiled  the  well,  and  they  took  me  before 
an  Englishman,  white  and  terrible,  living  in  a  tent, 
and  me  he  sent  here.  But  there  were  no  witnesses, 
and  it  is  better  to  die  than  to  starve.  She,  further- 
more, could  not  see  with  her  eyes,  and  was  but  a 
little  child." 

"Was  but  a  little  child,"  echoed  the  Head 
Groom's  wife.  "But  who  art  thou,  weak  as  a 
fowl  and  small  as  a  day-old  colt,  what  art  thou  ?  " 

"  I  who  was  empty  am  now  full,"  said  Little 
Tobrah,  stretching  himself  upon  the  dust.  "  And 
I  would  sleep." 

The  groom's  wife  spread  a  cloth  over  him  while 
Little  Tobrah  slept  the  sleep  of  the  just. 

251 


GEMINI 


Great  is  the  justice  of  the  White  Man  —  greater  the  power 
of  a  lie. —  Native  Proverb, 

This  is  your  English  Justice,  Protector  of  the 
Poor.  Look  at  my  back  and  loins  which  are 
beaten  with  sticks  —  heavy  sticks  !  I  am  a  poor 
man,  and  there  is  no  justice  in  Courts. 

There  were  two  of  us,  and  we  were  born  of  one 
birth,  but  I  swear  to  you  that  I  was  born  the  first, 
and  Ram  Dass  is  the  younger  by  three  full  breaths. 
The  astrologer  said  so,  and  it  is  written  in  my 
horoscope  —  the  horoscope  of  Durga  Dass. 

But  we  were  alike  —  I  and  my  brother  who  is 
a  beast  without  honour  —  so  alike  that  none  knew, 
together  or  apart,  which  was  Durga  Dass.  I  am 
a  Mahajun  of  Pali  in  Marwar,  and  an  honest  man. 
This  is  true  talk.  When  we  were  men,  we  left 
our  father's  house  in  Pali,  and  went  to  the  Punjab, 
where  all  the  people  are  mud-heads  and  sons  of 
asses.  We  took  shop  together  in  Isser  Jang  —  I 
and  my  brother  —  near  the  big  well  where  the 
Governor's  camp  draws  water.  But  Ram  Dass, 
who  is  without  truth,  made  quarrel  with  me,  and 

252 


GEMINI 


we  were  divided.  He  took  his  books,  and  his 
pots,  and  his  Mark,  and  became  a  hunnia  —  a 
money-lender  —  in  the  long  street  of  Isser  Jang, 
near  the  gateway  of  the  road  that  goes  to  Mont- 
gomery. It  was  not  my  fault  that  we  pulled  each 
other's  turbans.  I  am  a  Mahajun  of  Pali,  and  I 
always  speak  true  talk.  Ram  Dass  was  the  thief 
and  the  liar. 

Now  no  man,  not  even  the  little  children,  could 
at  one  glance  see  which  was  Ram  Dass  and  which 
was  Durga  Dass.   But  all  the  people  of  Isser  Jang 

—  may  they  die  without  sons  ! — said  that  we  were 
thieves.  They  used  much  bad  talk,  but  I  took 
money  on  their  bedsteads  and  their  cooking-pots 
and  the  standing  crop  and  the  calf  unborn,  from 
the  well  in  the  big  square  to  the  gate  of  the  Mont- 
gomery road.  They  were  fools,  these  people  — 
unfit  to  cut  the  toe-nails  of  a  Marwari  from  Pali. 
I  lent  money  to  them  all.  A  little,  very  little 
only — here  a  pice  and  there  a  pice.  God  is  my 
witness  that  I  am  a  poor  man  !  The  money  is 
all  with  Ram  Dass  —  may  his  sons  turn  Christian, 
and  his  daughter  be  a  burning  fire  and  a  shame  in 
the  house  from  generation  to  generation  I  May 
she  die  unwed,  and  be  the  mother  of  a  multitude 
of  bastards  !  Let  the  light  go  out  in  the  house  of 
Ram  Dass,  my  brother.    This  I  pray  daily  twice 

—  with  offerings  and  charms. 

Thus  the  trouble  began.    We  divided  the  town 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


of  Isser  Jang  between  us — I  and  my  brother. 
There  was  a  landholder  beyond  the  gates,  living 
but  one  short  mile  out,  on  the  road  that  leads  to 
Montgomery,  and  his  name  was  Muhammad  Shah, 
son  of  a  Nawab.  He  was  a  great  devil  and  drank 
wine.  So  long  as  there  were  women  in  his  house, 
and  wine  and  money  for  the  marriage-feasts,  he 
was  merry  and  wiped  his  mouth.  Ram  Dass  lent 
him  the  money,  a  lakh  or  half  a  lakh  —  how  do  I 
know —  and  so  long  as  the  money  was  lent,  the 
landholder  cared  not  what  he  signed. 

The  people  of  Isser  Jang  were  my  portion,  and 
the  landholder  and  the  out-town  were  the  portion 
of  Ram  Dass ;  for  so  we  had  arranged.  I  was  the 
poor  man,  for  the  people  of  Isser  Jang  were  with- 
out wealth.  I  did  what  I  could,  but  Ram  Dass 
had  only  to  wait  without  the  door  of  the  land- 
holder's garden-court,  and  to  lend  him  the  money; 
taking  the  bonds  from  the  hand  of  the  steward. 

In  the  autumn  of  the  year  after  the  lending, 
Ram  Dass  said  to  the  landholder :  "  Pay  me  my 
money,"  but  the  landholder  gave  him  abuse.  But 
Ram  Dass  went  into  the  Courts  with  the  papers 
and  the  bonds  —  all  correct  —  and  took  out  de- 
crees against  the  landholder;  and  the  name  of  the 
Government  was  across  the  stamps  of  the  decrees. 
Ram  Dass  took  field  by  field,  and  mango-tree  by 
mango-tree,  and  well  by  well ;  putting  in  his  own 
men  —  debtors  of  the  out-town  of  Isser  Jang  — 


GEMINI 


—  to  cultivate  the  crops.  So  he  crept  up  across 
the  land,  for  he  had  the  papers,  and  the  name  of 
the  Government  was  across  the  stamps,  till  his  men 
held  the  crops  for  him  on  all  sides  of  the  big  white 
house  of  the  landholder.  It  was  well  done ;  but 
when  the  landholder  saw  these  things  he  was  very 
angry  and  cursed  Ram  Dass  after  the  manner  of 
the  Muhammadans. 

And  thus  the  landholder  was  angry,  but  Ram 
Dass  laughed  and  claimed  more  fields,  as  was 
written  upon  the  bonds.  This  was  in  the  month 
of  Phagun.  I  took  my  horse  and  went  out  to 
speak  to  the  man  who  makes  lac-bangles  upon  the 
road  that  leads  to  Montgomery,  because  he  owed 
me  a  debt.  There  was  in  front  of  me,  upon  his 
horse,  my  brother  Ram  Dass.  And  when  he  saw 
me,  he  turned  aside  into  the  high  crops,  because 
there  was  hatred  between  us.  And  I  went  forward 
till  I  came  to  the  orange-bushes  by  the  landhold- 
er's house.  The  bats  were  flying,  and  the  evening 
smoke  was  low  down  upon  the  land.  Here  met 
me  four  men  —  swashbucklers  and  Muhamma- 
dans —  with  their  faces  bound  up,  laying  hold  of 
my  horse's  bridle  and  crying  out :  "  This  is  Ram 
Dass  !  Beat !  "  Me  they  beat  with  their  staves  — 
heavy  staves  bound  about  with  wire  at  the  end, 
such  weapons  as  those  swine  of  Punjabis  use  —  till, 
having  cried  for  mercy,  I  fell  down  senseless.  But 
these  shameless  ones  still  beat  me,  saying:  "  O  Ram 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


Dass,  this  is  your  interest  —  well  weighed  and 
counted  into  your  hand,  Ram  Dass."  I  cried 
aloud  that  I  was  not  Ram  Dass,  but  Durga  Dass, 
his  brother,  yet  they  only  beat  me  the  more,  and 
when  I  could  make  no  more  outcry  they  left  me. 
But  I  saw  their  faces.  There  was  Elahi  Baksh 
who  runs  by  the  side  of  the  landholder's  white 
horse,  and  Nur  Ali  the  keeper  of  the  door,  and 
Wajib  Ali  the  very  strong  cook,  and  Abdul  Latif 
the  messenger  —  all  of  the  household  of  the  land- 
holder. These  things  I  can  swear  on  the  Cow's 
Tail  if  need  be,  but  —  Ahi !  Ahi!  —  it  has  been 
already  sworn,  and  I  am  a  poor  man  whose  honour 
is  lost. 

When  these  four  had  gone  away  laughing,  my  bro- 
ther Ram  Dass  came  out  of  the  crops  and  mourned 
over  me  as  one  dead.  But  I  opened  my  eyes,  and 
prayed  him  to  get  me  water.  When  I  had  drunk, 
he  carried  me  on  his  back,  and  by  byways  brought 
me  into  the  town  of  Isser  Jang.  My  heart  was 
turned  to  Ram  Dass,  my  brother,  in  that  hour, 
because  of  his  kindness,  and  I  lost  my  enmity. 

But  a  snake  is  a  snake  till  it  is  dead ;  and  a  liar 
is  a  liar  till  the  Judgment  of  the  Gods  takes  hold 
of  his  heel.  I  was  wrong  in  that  I  trusted  my  bro- 
ther —  the  son  of  my  mother. 

When  we  had  come  to  his  house  and  I  was  a 
little  restored,  I  told  him  my  tale,  and  he  said : 
"  Without  doubt  it  is  me  whom  they  would  have 

256 


GEMINI 


beaten  But  the  Law  Courts  are  open,  and  there 
is  the  Justice  of  the  Sirkar  above  all ;  and  to  the 
Law  Courts  do  thou  go  when  this  sickness  is  over- 
past." 

Now  when  we  two  had  left  Pali  in  the  old 
years,  there  fell  a  famine  that  ran  from  Jeysulmir 
to  Gurgaon  and  touched  Gogunda  in  the  south. 
At  that  time  the  sister  of  my  father  came  away 
and  lived  with  us  in  Isser  Jang;  for  a  man  must 
above  all  see  that  his  folk  do  not  die  of  want. 
When  the  quarrel  between  us  twain  came  about, 
the  sister  of  my  father — a  lean  she-dog  without 
teeth — said  that  Ram  Dass  had  the  right,  and 
went  with  him.  Into  her  hands — because  she 
knew  medicines  and  many  cures — Ram  Dass,  my 
brother,  put  me  faint  with  the  beating,  and  much 
bruised  even  to  the  pouring  of  blood  from  the 
mouth.  When  I  had  two  days'  sickness  the  fever 
came  upon  me;  and  I  set  aside  the  fever  to  the 
account  written  in  my  mind  against  the  landholder. 

The  Punjabis  of  Isser  Jang  are  all  the  sons  of 
Belial  and  a  she-ass,  but  they  are  very  good  wit- 
nesses, bearing  testimony  unshakingly  whatever 
the  pleaders  may  say.  I  would  purchase  witnesses 
by  the  score,  and  each  man  should  give  evidence, 
not  only  against  Nur  Ali,  Wajib  Ali,  Abdul  Latif, 
and  Elahi  Baksh,  but  against  the  landholder,  say- 
ing that  he  upon  his  white  horse  had  called  his 
men  to  beat  me  ;  and,  further  that  they  had  robbed 

257 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


me  of  two  hundred  rupees.  For  the  latter  testi- 
mony I  would  remit  a  little  of  the  debt  of  the 
man  who  sold  the  lac-bangles,  and  he  should  say 
that  he  had  put  the  money  into  my  hands,  and  had 
seen  the  robbery  from  afar,  but,  being  afraid,  had 
run  away.  This  plan  I  told  to  my  brother  Ram 
Dass ;  and  he  said  that  the  arrangement  was  good, 
and  bade  me  take  comfort  and  make  swift  work 
to  be  abroad  again.  My  heart  was  opened  to  my 
brother  in  my  sickness,  and  I  told  him  the  names 
of  those  whom  I  would  call  as  witnesses — all  men 
in  my  debt,  but  of  that  the  Magistrate  Sahib  could 
have  no  knowledge,  nor  the  landholder.  The 
fever  stayed  with  me,  and  after  the  fever  I  was 
taken  with  colic,  and  gripings  very  terrible.  In 
that  day  I  thought  that  my  end  was  at  hand,  but 
I  know  now  that  she  who  gave  me  the  medicines, 
the  sister  of  my  father — a  widow  with  a  widow's 
heart — had  brought  about  my  second  sickness. 
Ram  Dass,  my  brother,  said  that  my  house  was 
shut  and  locked,  and  brought  me  the  big  door-key 
and  my  books,  together  with  all  the  moneys  that 
were  in  my  house — even  the  money  that  was  buried 
under  the  floor;  for  I  was  in  great  fear  lest  thieves 
should  break  in  and  dig.  I  speak  true  talk ;  there 
was  but  very  little  money  in  my  house.  Perhaps 
ten  rupees — perhaps  twenty.  How  can  I  tell? 
God  is  my  witness  that  I  am  a  poor  man. 

One  night  when  I  had  told  Ram  Dass  all  that 
258 


GEMINI 


was  in  my  heart  of  the  lawsuit  that  I  would  bring 
against  the  landholder,  and  Ram  Dass  had  said 
that  he  had  made  the  arrangements  with  the  wit- 
nesses, giving  me  their  names  written,  I  was  taken 
with  a  new  great  sickness,  and  they  put  me  on 
the  bed.  When  I  was  a  little  recovered — I  can- 
not tell  how  many  days  afterwards — I  made  en- 
quiry for  Ram  Dass,  and  the  sister  of  my  father 
said  that  he  had  gone  to  Montgomery  upon  a 
lawsuit.  I  took  medicine  and  slept  very  heavily 
without  waking.  When  my  eyes  were  opened, 
there  was  a  great  stillness  in  the  house  of  Ram 
Dass,  and  none  answered  when  I  called  —  not 
even  the  sister  of  my  father.  This  filled  me  with 
fear,  for  I  knew  not  what  had  happened. 

Taking  a  stick  in  my  hand,  I  went  out  slowly, 
till  I  came  to  the  great  square  by  the  well,  and 
my  heart  was  hot  in  me  against  the  landholder 
because  of  the  pain  of  every  step  I  took. 

I  called  for  Jowar  Singh,  the  carpenter,  whose 
name  was  first  upon  the  list  of  those  who  should 
bear  evidence  against  the  landholder,  saying: 
"  Are  all  things  ready,  and  do  you  know  what 
should  be  said  *?  " 

Jowar  Singh  answered :  "  What  is  this,  and 
whence  do  you  come,  Durga  Dass?" 

I  said :  "  From  my  bed,  where  I  have  so  long 
lain  sick  because  of  the  landholder.  Where  is 
Ram  Dass,  my  brother,  who  was  to  have  made 

259 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


the  arrangement  for  the  witnesses^  Surely  you 
and  yours  know  these  things  !  " 

Then  Jowar  Singh  said :  "  What  has  this  to 
do  with  us,  O  Liar?  I  have  borne  witness  and 
I  have  been  paid,  and  the  landholder  has,  by  the 
order  of  the  Court,  paid  both  the  five  hundred 
rupees  that  he  robbed  from  Ram  Dass  and  yet 
other  five  hundred  because  of  the  great  injury  he 
did  to  your  brother." 

The  well  and  the  jujube-tree  above  it  and  the 
square  of  Isser  Jang  became  dark  in  my  eyes,  but 
I  leaned  on  my  stick  and  said :  "  Nay !  This  is 
child's  talk  and  senseless.  It  was  I  who  suffered 
at  the  hands  of  the  landholder,  and  I  am  come  to 
make  ready  the  case.  Where  is  my  brother  Ram 
Dass^" 

But  Jowar  Singh  shook  his  head,  and  a  woman 
cried :  "  What  lie  is  here What  quarrel  had  the 
landholder  with  you,  hunnia  ?  It  is  only  a  shame- 
less one  and  one  without  faith  who  profits  by  his 
brother's  smarts.    Have  these  hunnias  no  bowels  ?  " 

I  cried  again,  saying :  "  By  the  Cow  —  by  the 
Oath  of  the  Cow,  by  the  Temple  of  the  Blue- 
throated  Mahadeo,  I  and  I  only  was  beaten  — 
beaten  to  the  death  I  Let  your  talk  be  straight, 
O  people  of  Isser  Jang,  and  I  will  pay  for  the 
witnesses."  And  I  tottered  where  I  stood,  for  the 
sickness  and  the  pain  of  the  beating  were  heavy 
upon  me. 

260 


GEMINI 


Then  Ram  Narain,  who  has  his  carpet  spread 
under  the  jujube-tree  by  the  well,  and  writes  all 
letters  for  the  men  of  the  town,  came  up  and  said : 
"  To-day  is  the  one  and  fortieth  day  since  the 
beating,  and  since  these  six  days  the  case  has  been 
judged  in  the  Court,  and  the  Assistant  Commis- 
sioner Sahib  has  given  it  for  your  brother  Ram 
Dass,  allowing  the  robbery,  to  which,  too,  I  bore 
witness,  and  all  things  else  as  the  witnesses  said. 
There  were  many  witnesses,  and  twice  Ram  Dass 
became  senseless  in  the  Court  because  of  his 
wounds,  and  the  Stunt  Sahib  —  the  haha  Stunt 
Sahib  —  gave  him  a  chair  before  all  the  pleaders. 
Why  do  you  howl,  Durga  Dass  ?  These  things 
fell  as  I  have  said.    Was  it  not  so  *?  " 

And  Jowar  Singh  said :  "  That  is  truth.  I  was 
there,  and  there  was  a  red  cushion  in  the  chair." 

And  Ram  Narain  said :  "  Great  shame  has  come 
upon  the  landholder  because  of  this  judgment,  and 
fearing  his  anger.  Ram  Dass  and  all  his  house 
have  gone  back  to  Pali.  Ram  Dass  told  us  that 
you  also  had  gone  first,  the  enmity  being  healed 
between  you,  to  open  a  shop  in  Pali.  Indeed,  it 
were  well  for  you  that  you  go  even  now,  for  the 
landholder  has  sworn  that  if  he  catch  any  one  of 
your  house,  he  will  hang  him  by  the  heels  from 
the  well-beam,  and,  swinging  him  to  and  fro,  will 
beat  him  with  staves  till  the  blood  runs  from  his 
ears.    What  I  have  said  in  respect  to  the  case  is 

261 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


true,  as  these  men  here  can  testify  —  even  to  the 
five  hundred  rupees." 

I  said :  "  Was  it  five  hundred  ?  "  And  Kirpa 
Ram,  the  Jat,  said:  "Five  hundred;  for  I  bore  wit- 
ness also." 

And  I  groaned,  for  it  had  been  in  my  heart  to 
have  said  two  hundred  only. 

Then  a  new  fear  came  upon  me  and  my  bowels 
turned  to  water,  and,  running  swiftly  to  the  house 
of  Ram  Dass,  I  sought  for  my  books  and  my  money 
in  the  great  wooden  chest  under  my  bedstead. 
There  remained  nothing :  not  even  a  cowrie's  value. 
All  had  been  taken  by  the  devil  who  said  he  was 
my  brother.  I  went  to  my  own  house  also  and 
opened  the  boards  of  the  shutters ;  but  there  also 
was  nothing  save  the  rats  among  the  grain-baskets. 
In  that  hour  my  senses  left  me,  and,  tearing  my 
clothes,  I  ran  to  the  well-place,  crying  out  for  the 
Justice  of  the  English  on  my  brother  Ram  Dass, 
and,  in  my  madness,  telling  all  that  the  books  were 
lost.  When  men  saw  that  I  would  have  jumped 
down  the  well,  they  believed  the  truth  of  my  talk ; 
more  especially  because  upon  my  back  and  bosom 
were  still  the  marks  of  the  staves  of  the  landholder. 

Jowar  Singh  the  carpenter  withstood  me,  and 
turning  me  in  his  hands  —  for  he  is  a  very  strong 
man  —  showed  the  scars  upon  my  body,  and  bowed 
down  with  laughter  upon  the  well-curb.  He  cried 
aloud  so  that  all  heard  him,  from  the  well-square 

262 


GEMINI 


to  the  Caravanserai  of  the  Pilgrims :  "  Oho !  The 
jackals  have  quarrelled,  and  the  gray  one  has  been 
caught  in  the  trap.  In  truth,  this  man  has  been 
grievously  beaten,  and  his  brother  has  taken  the 
money  which  the  Court  decreed !  Oh,  hunnia^  this 
shall  be  told  for  years  against  you !  The  jackals 
have  quarrelled,  and,  moreover,  the  books  are 
burned.  O  people  indebted  to  Durga  Dass  — 
and  I  know  that  ye  be  many  —  the  books  are 
burned ! " 

Then  all  Isser  Jang  took  up  the  cry  that  the 
books  were  burned  —  Ahi!  Ahi!  that  in  my  folly 
I  had  let  that  escape  my  mouth —  and  they  laughed 
throughout  the  city.  They  gave  me  the  abuse  of 
the  Punjabi,  which  is  a  terrible  abuse  and  very  hot ; 
pelting  me  also  with  sticks  and  cow-dung  till  I  fell 
down  and  cried  for  mercy. 

Ram  Narain,  the  letter-writer,  bade  the  people 
cease,  for  fear  that  the  news  should  get  into  Mont- 
gomery, and  the  Policemen  might  come  down  to 
enquire.  He  said,  using  many  bad  words :  "  This 
much  mercy  will  I  do  to  you,  Durga  Dass,  though 
there  was  no  mercy  in  your  dealings  with  my  sis- 
ter's son  over  the  matter  of  the  dun  heifer.  Has 
any  man  a  pony  on  which  he  sets  no  store,  that 
this  fellow  may  escape  %  If  the  landholder  hears 
that  one  of  the  twain  (and  God  knows  whether  he 
beat  one  or  both,  but  this  man  is  certainly  beaten) 
be  in  the  city,  there  will  be  a  murder  done,  and 

263 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


then  will  come  the  Police,  making  inquisition  into 
each  man's  house  and  eating  the  sweet-seller's  stuff 
all  day  long." 

Kirpa  Ram,  the  Jat,  said :  "  I  have  a  pony  very 
sick.  But  with  beating  he  can  be  made  to  walk 
for  two  miles.  If  he  dies,  the  hide-sellers  will  have 
the  body." 

Then  Chumbo,  the  hide-seller,  said :  "  I  will 
pay  three  annas  for  the  body,  and  will  walk  by 
this  man's  side  till  such  time  as  the  pony  dies.  If 
it  be  more  than  two  miles,  I  will  pay  two  annas 
only." 

Kirpa  Ram  said :  "  Be  it  so."  Men  brought  out 
the  pony,  and  I  asked  leave  to  draw  a  little  water 
from  the  well,  because  I  was  dried  up  with  fear. 

Then  Ram  Narain  said :  "  Here  be  four  annas. 
God  has  brought  you  very  low,  Durga  Dass,  and 
I  would  not  send  you  away  empty,  even  though 
the  matter  of  my  sister's  son's  dun  heifer  be  an 
open  sore  between  us.  It  is  a  long  way  to  your 
own  country.  Go,  and  if  it  be  so  willed,  live; 
but,  above  all,  do  not  take  the  pony's  bridle,  for 
that  is  mine." 

And  I  went  out  of  Isser  Jang,  amid  the  laugh- 
ing of  the  huge-thighed  Jats,  and  the  hide-seller 
walked  by  my  side  waiting  for  the  pony  to  fall 
dead.  In  one  mile  it  died,  and  being  full  of  fear 
of  the  landholder,  I  ran  till  I  could  run  no  more, 
and  came  to  this  place. 

264 


GEMINI 


But  I  swear  by  the  Cow,  I  swear  by  all  things 
whereon  Hindus  and  Musalmans,  and  even  the 
Sahibs  swear,  that  I,  and  not  my  brother,  was 
beaten  by  the  landholder.  But  the  case  is  shut 
and  the  doors  of  the  Law  Courts  are  shut,  and  God 
knows  where  the  baba  Stunt  Sahib  —  the  mother's 
milk  is  not  yet  dry  upon  his  hairless  lip  —  is  gone. 
jihil  Ahil  I  have  no  witnesses,  and  the  scars  will 
heal,  and  I  am  a  poor  man.  But,  on  my  Father's 
Soul,  on  the  oath  of  a  Mahajun  from  Pali,  I,  and 
not  my  brother,  I  was  beaten  by  the  landholder ! 

What  can  I  do?  The  Justice  of  the  English 
is  as  a  great  river.  Having  gone  forward,  it  does 
not  return.  Howbeit,  do  you.  Sahib,  take  a  pen 
and  write  clearly  what  I  have  said,  that  the  Dipty 
Sahib  may  see,  and  remove  the  Stunt  Sahib,  who 
is  a  colt  yet  unlicked  by  the  mare,  so  young  is  he. 
I,  and  not  my  brother,  was  beaten,  and  he  is  gone 
to  the  west  —  I  do  not  know  where. 

But,  above  all  things,  write — so  that  Sahibs 
may  read,  and  his  disgrace  be  accomplished  — 
that  Ram  Dass,  my  brother,  son  of  Purun  Dass, 
Mahajun  of  Pali,  is  a  swine  and  a  night-thief,  a 
taker  of  life,  an  eater  of  flesh,  a  jackal-spawn  with- 
out beauty,  or  faith,  or  cleanliness,  or  honour  I 


265 


THE  LIMITATIONS  OF  PAMBfi  SERANG 


If  you  consider  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  it 
was  the  only  thing  that  he  could  do.  But  Pambe 
Serang  has  been  hanged  by  the  neck  till  he  is 
dead,  and  Nurkeed  is  dead  also. 

Three  years  ago,  when  the  Elsass-Lothringen 
steamer  Saarbruck  was  coaling  at  Aden  and  the 
weather  was  very  hot  indeed,  Nurkeed,  the  big 
fat  Zanzibar  stoker  who  fed  the  second  right  fur- 
nace thirty  feet  down  in  the  hold,  got  leave  to  go 
ashore.  He  departed  "a  Seedee  boy,"  as  they 
call  the  stokers ;  he  returned  the  full-blooded  Sul- 
tan of  Zanzibar  —  His  Highness  Sayyid  Burgash, 
with  a  bottle  in  each  hand.  Then  he  sat  on  the 
fore-hatch  grating,  eating  salt  fish  and  onions,  and 
singing  the  songs  of  a  far  country.  The  food  be- 
longed to  Pambe,  the  serang  or  head  man  of  the 
lascar  sailors.  He  had  just  cooked  it  for  himself, 
turned  to  borrow  some  salt,  and  when  he  came 
back  Nurkeed's  dirty  black  fingers  were  spading 
into  the  rice. 

A  serang  is  a  person  of  importance,  far  above  a 
stoker,  though  the  stoker  draws  better  pay.  He 

Copyright,  1891,  by  Macmillan  &  Co. 

266 


THE  LIMITATIONS  OF  PAMBfi  SERANG 


sets  the  chorus  of  "  Hya !  Hulla !  Hee-ah !  Heh  ! " 
when  the  captain's  gig  is  pulled  up  to  the  davits ;  he 
heaves  the  lead  too ;  and  sometimes,  when  all  the 
ship  is  lazy,  he  puts  on  his  whitest  muslin  and  a  big 
red  sash,  and  plays  with  the  passengers*  children 
on  the  quarter-deck.  Then  the  passengers  give 
him  money,  and  he  saves  it  all  up  for  an  orgy  at 
Bombay  or  Calcutta,  or  Pulu  Penang. 

"  Ho !  you  fat  black  barrel,  you're  eating  my 
food ! "  said  Pambe,  in  the  Other  Lingua  Franca 
that  begins  where  the  Levant  tongue  stops,  and 
runs  from  Port  Said  eastward  till  east  is  west,  and 
the  sealing-brigs  of  the  Kurile  Islands  gossip  with 
the  strayed  Hakodate  junks. 

"  Son  of  Eblis,  monkey-face,  dried  shark's  liver, 
pig-man,  I  am  the  Sultan  Sayyid  Burgash,  and 
the  commander  of  all  this  ship.  Take  away  your 
garbage  " ;  and  Nurkeed  thrust  the  empty  pewter 
rice-plate  into  Pambe's  hand. 

Pambe  beat  it  into  a  basin  over  Nurkeed's 
woolly  head.  Nurkeed  drew  his  sheath-knife  and 
stabbed  Pambe  in  the  leg.  Pambe  drew  his  sheath- 
knife  ;  but  Nurkeed  dropped  down  into  the  dark- 
ness of  the  hold  and  spat  through  the  grating  at 
Pambe,  who  was  staining  the  clean  fore-deck  with 
his  blood. 

Only  the  white  moon  saw  these  things ;  for  the 
officers  were  looking  after  the  coaling,  and  the 
passengers  were  tossing  in  their  close  cabins.    "  All 

267 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


right,"  said  Pambe  —  and  went  forward  to  tie  up 
his  leg  —  "  we  will  settle  the  account  later  on." 

He  was  a  Malay  born  in  India :  married  once 
in  Burma,  where  his  wife  had  a  cigar-shop  on  the 
Shwe-Dagon  road ;  once  in  Singapore,  to  a  Chinese 
girl;  and  once  in  Madras,  to  a  Mahomedan  woman 
who  sold  fowls.  The  English  sailor  cannot,  owing 
to  postal  and  telegraph  facilities,  marry  as  pro- 
fusely as  he  used  to  do ;  but  native  sailors  can, 
being  uninfluenced  by  the  barbarous  inventions  of 
the  Western  savage.  Pambe  was  a  good  husband 
when  he  happened  to  remember  the  existence  of  a 
wife ;  but  he  was  also  a  very  good  Malay ;  and  it 
is  not  wise  to  offend  a  Malay,  because  he  does  not 
forget  anything.  Moreover,  in  Pambe's  case  blood 
had  been  drawn  and  food  spoiled. 

Next  morning  Nurkeed  rose  with  a  blank  mind. 
He  was  no  longer  Sultan  of  Zanzibar,  but  a  very 
hot  stoker.  So  he  went  on  deck  and  opened  his 
jacket  to  the  morning  breeze,  till  a  sheath-knife 
came  like  a  flying-fish  and  stuck  into  the  wood- 
work of  the  cook's  galley  half  an  inch  from  his 
right  armpit.  He  ran  down  below  before  his 
time,  trying  to  remember  what  he  could  have  said 
to  the  owner  of  the  weapon.  At  noon,  when  all 
the  ship's  lascars  were  feeding,  Nurkeed  advanced 
into  their  midst,  and,  being  a  placid  man  with  a 
large  regard  for  his  own  skin,  he  opened  nego- 
tiations, saying,  "  Men  of  the  ship,  last  night  I  was 

268 


THE  LIMITATIONS  OF  PAMBE  SERANG 


drunk,  and  this  morning  I  know  that  I  behaved 
unseemly  to  some  one  or  another  of  you.  Who 
was  that  man,  that  I  may  meet  him  face  to  face 
and  say  that  I  was  drunk  ?  " 

Pambe  measured  the  distance  to  Nurkeed's 
naked  breast.  If  he  sprang  at  him  he  might  be 
tripped  up,  and  a  blind  blow  at  the  chest  some- 
times only  means  a  gash  on  the  breast-bone.  Ribs 
are  difficult  to  thrust  between  unless  the  subject  be 
asleep.  So  he  said  nothing ;  nor  did  the  other  las- 
cars.  Their  faces  immediately  dropped  all  expres- 
sion, as  is  the  custom  of  the  Oriental  when  there 
is  killing  on  the  carpet  or  any  chance  of  trouble. 
Nurkeed  looked  long  at  the  white  eyeballs.  He 
was  only  an  African,  and  could  not  read  characters. 
A  big  sigh  —  almost  a  groan  —  broke  from  him, 
and  he  went  back  to  the  furnaces.  The  lascars 
took  up  the  conversation  where  he  had  interrupted 
it.  They  talked  of  the  best  methods  of  cooking 
rice. 

Nurkeed  suffered  considerably  from  lack  of 
fresh  air  during  the  run  to  Bombay.  He  only 
came  on  deck  to  breathe  when  all  the  world  was 
about;  and  even  then  a  heavy  block  once  dropped 
from  a  derrick  within  a  foot  of  his  head,  and  an 
apparently  firm-lashed  grating  on  which  he  set  his 
foot  began  to  turn  over  with  the  intention  of  drop- 
ping him  on  the  cased  cargo  fifteen  feet  below ;  and 
one  insupportable  night  the  sheath-knife  dropped 

269 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 

from  the  fo'c's'le,  and  this  time  it  drew  blood.  So 
Nurkeed  made  complaint;  and,  when  the  Saar* 
bruck  reached  Bombay,  fled  and  buried  himself 
among  eight  hundred  thousand  people,  and  did 
not  sign  articles  till  the  ship  had  been  a  month 
gone  from  the  port.  Pambe  waited  too;  but  his 
Bombay  wife  grew  clamorous,  and  he  was  forced 
to  sign  in  the  Spicheren  to  Hongkong,  because  he 
realised  that  all  play  and  no  work  gives  Jack  a 
ragged  shirt.  In  the  foggy  China  seas  he  thought 
a  great  deal  of  Nurkeed,  and,  when  Elsass-Loth- 
ringen  steamers  lay  in  port  with  the  Spicheren^  in- 
quired after  him  and  found  he  had  gone  to  Eng- 
land via  the  Cape,  on  the  Gravelotte,  Pambe  came 
to  England  on  the  IV orth.  The  Spicheren  met  her 
by  the  Nore  Light.  Nurkeed  was  going  out  with 
the  Spicheren  to  the  Calicut  coast. 

"  Want  to  find  a  friend,  my  trap-mouthed  coal- 
scuttle ?  "  said  a  gentleman  in  the  mercantile  ser- 
vice. "  Nothing  easier.  Wait  at  the  Nyanza 
Docks  till  he  comes.  Every  one  comes  to  the 
Nyanza  Docks.  Wait,  you  poor  heathen."  The 
gentleman  spoke  truth.  There  are  three  great 
doors  in  the  world  where,  if  you  stand  long  enough, 
you  shall  meet  any  one  you  wish.  The  head  of 
the  Suez  Canal  is  one,  but  there  Death  comes  also; 
Charing  Cross  Station  is  the  second  —  for  inland 
work;  and  the  Nyanza  Docks  is  the  third.  At 
each  of  these  places  are  men  and  women  looking 

270 


THE  LIMITATIONS  OF  PAMBfi  SERANG 


eternally  for  those  who  will  surely  come.  So 
Pambe  waited  at  the  docks.  Time  was  no  object 
to  him ;  and  the  wives  could  wait,  as  he  did  from 
day  to  day,  week  to  week,  and  month  to  month, 
by  the  Blue  Diamond  funnels,  the  Red  Dot  smoke- 
stacks, the  Yellow  Streaks,  and  the  nameless  dingy 
gypsies  of  the  sea  that  loaded  and  unloaded,  jostled, 
whistled,  and  roared  in  the  everlasting  fog.  When 
money  failed,  a  kind  gentleman  told  Pambe  to  be- 
come a  Christian;  and  Pambe  became  one  with 
great  speed,  getting  his  religious  teachings  between 
ship  and  ship's  arrival,  and  six  or  seven  shillings  a 
week  for  distributing  tracts  to  mariners.  What 
the  faith  was  Pambe  did  not  in  the  least  care ;  but 
he  knew  if  he  said  "  Native  Ki-lis-ti-an,  Sar,'*  to 
men  with  long  black  coats  he  might  get  a  few 
coppers;  and  the  tracts  were  vendible  at  a  little 
public-house  that  sold  shag  by  the  "  dottel,"  which 
is  even  smaller  weight  than  the  half-screw,  which 
is  less  than  the  half-ounce,  and  a  most  profitable 
retail  trade. 

But  after  eight  months  Pambe  fell  sick  with 
pneumonia,  contracted  from  long  standing  still  in 
slush ;  and  much  against  his  will  he  was  forced  to 
lie  down  in  his  two-and-sixpenny  room  raging 
against  Fate. 

The  kind  gentleman  sat  by  his  bedside,  and 
grieved  to  find  that  Pambe  talked  in  strange 
tongues,  instead  of  listening  to  good  books,  and 

271 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


almost  seemed  to  become  a  benighted  heathen 
again  —  till  one  day  he  was  roused  from  semi- 
stupor  by  a  voice  in  the  street  by  the  dock- 
head.  "  My  friend  —  he,"  whispered  Pambe. 
"  Call  now  —  call  Nurkeed.  Quick  !  God  has 
sent  him ! " 

"  He  wanted  one  of  his  own  race,"  said  the  kind 
gentleman ;  and,  going  out,  he  called  "  Nurkeed  I " 
at  the  top  of  his  voice.  An  excessively  coloured 
man  in  a  rasping  white  shirt  and  brand-new  slops, 
a  shining  hat,  and  a  breast-pin,  turned  round. 
Many  voyages  had  taught  Nurkeed  how  to  spend 
his  money  and  made  him  a  citizen  of  the  world. 

"  Hi !  Yes  I  "  said  he,  when  the  situation  was 
explained.  "Command  him  —  black  nigger  — 
when  I  was  in  the  Saarhruck,  Ole  Pambe,  good 
ole  Pambe.  Dam  lascar.  Show  him  up,  Sar"; 
and  he  followed  into  the  room.  One  glance  told 
the  stoker  what  the  kind  gentleman  had  over- 
looked. Pambe  was  desperately  poor.  Nurkeed 
drove  his  hands  deep  into  his  pockets,  then  ad- 
vanced with  clenched  fists  on  the  sick,  shouting, 
"Hya,  Pambe.  Hya !  Hee-ah !  Hulla!  Heh! 
Takilo !  Takilo !  Make  fast  aft,  Pambe.  You 
know,  Pambe.  You  know  me.  Dekho,  jee  ! 
Look !    Dam  big  fat  lazy  lascar  ! " 

Pambe  beckoned  with  his  left  hand.  His  right 
was  under  his  pillow.  Nurkeed  removed  his  gor- 
geous hat  and  stooped  over  Pambe  till  he  could 

272 


THE  LIMITATIONS  OF  PAMBfi  SERANG 


catch  a  faint  whisper.  "  How  beautiful ! "  said  the 
kind  gentleman.  "  How  these  Orientals  love  like 
children ! " 

"  Spit  him  out,"  said  Nurkeed,  leaning  over 
Pambe  yet  more  closely. 

"  Touching  the  matter  of  that  fish  and  onions,'* 
said  Pambe  —  and  sent  the  knife  home  under  the 
edge  of  the  rib-bone  upwards  and  forwards. 

There  was  a  thick,  sick  cough,  and  the  body  of 
the  African  slid  slowly  from  the  bed,  his  clutching 
hands  letting  fall  a  shower  of  silver  pieces  that  ran 
across  the  room. 

"  Now  I  can  die  ! "  said  Pambe. 

But  he  did  not  die.  He  was  nursed  back  to  life 
with  all  the  skill  that  money  could  buy,  for  the 
Law  wanted  him;  and  in  the  end  he  grew  suffi- 
ciently healthy  to  be  hanged  in  due  and  proper 
form. 

Pambe  did  not  care  particularly;  but  it  was  a 
sad  blow  to  the  kind  gentleman. 


273 


ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION 


From  Shafiz  Ullah  Kban,  son  of  Hyat  Ullah  Kha% 
in  the  honoured  service  of  His  Highness  the  Rao 
Sahib  ofjagesur^  which  is  in  the  northern  borders 
of  Hindustan^  and  Orderly  to  His  Highness ^  this  to 
Kazi  Jamal'ud'Din^  son  of  Kazi  Ferisht  ud  Din 
Khan^  in  the  service  of  the  Rao  Sahib^  a  minister 
much  honoured.  Frofn  that  place  which  they  call 
the  Northbrook  Club^  in  the  town  of  London^  under 
the  shadow  of  the  Empress^  it  is  written : 

Between  brother  and  chosen  brother  be  no  long 
protestations  of  Love  and  Sincerity.  Heart 
speaks  naked  to  Heart,  and  the  Head  answers 
for  all.  Glory  and  Honour  on  thy  house  till 
the  ending  of  the  years,  and  a  tent  in  the  bor- 
ders of  Paradise. 

My  Brother, —  In  regard  to  that  for  which  I  was 
despatched  follows  the  account.  I  have  purchased 
for  the  Rao  Sahib,  and  paid  sixty  pounds  in  every 
hundred,  the  things  he  most  desired.  Thus,  two 
of  the  great  fawn-coloured  tiger-dogs,  male  and 


Copyright,  1893,  by  D.  Appleton  &  Co 

274 


ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION 

female,  their  pedigree  being  written  upon  paper, 
and  silver  collars  adorning  their  necks.  For  the 
Rao  Sahib's  greater  pleasure  I  send  them  at  once 
by  the  steamer,  in  charge  of  a  man  who  will  ren- 
der account  of  them  at  Bombay  to  the  bankers 
there.  They  are  the  best  of  all  dogs  in  this  place. 
Of  guns  I  have  bought  five  —  two  silver-sprigged 
in  the  stock,  with  gold  scroll-work  about  the  ham- 
mer, both  double-barrelled,  hard-striking,  cased  in 
velvet  and  red  leather ;  three  of  unequalled  work- 
manship, but  lacking  adornment;  a  pump-gun 
that  fires  fourteen  times  —  this  when  the  Rao 
Sahib  drives  pig;  a  double-barrelled  shell-gun 
for  tiger,  and  that  is  a  miracle  of  workmanship; 
and  a  fowling-piece  no  lighter  than  a  feather, 
with  green  and  blue  cartridges  by  the  thousand. 
Also  a  very  small  rifle  for  blackbuck,  that  yet 
would  slay  a  man  at  four  hundred  paces.  The 
harness  with  the  golden  crests  for  the  Rao  Sahib's 
coach  is  not  yet  complete,  by  reason  of  the  diffi- 
culty of  lining  the  red  velvet  into  leather;  but 
the  two-horse  harness  and  the  great  saddle  with 
the  golden  holsters  that  is  for  state  use  have  been 
put  with  camphor  into  a  tin  box,  and  I  have 
signed  it  with  my  ring.  Of  the  grained-leather 
case  of  women's  tools  and  tweezers  for  the  hair 
and  beard,  of  the  perfumes  and  the  silks,  and  all 
that  was  wanted  by  the  women  behind  the  cur- 
tains, I  have  no  knowledge.    They  are  matters 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


of  long  coming,  and  the  hawk-bells,  hoods,  and 
jesses  with  the  golden  lettering  are  as  much  de- 
layed as  they.  Read  this  in  the  Rao  Sahib's  ear, 
and  speak  of  my  diligence  and  zeal,  that  favour 
may  not  be  abated  by  absence,  and  keep  the  eye 
of  constraint  upon  that  jesting  dog  without  teeth 
—  Bahadur  Shah  —  for  by  thy  aid  and  voice,  and 
what  I  have  done  in  regard  to  the  guns,  I  look, 
as  thou  knowest,  for  the  headship  of  the  army  of 
Jagesur.  That  conscienceless  one  desires  it  also, 
and  I  have  heard  that  the  Rao  Sahib  leans  that- 
ward.  Have  ye  done,  then,  with  the  drinking  of 
wine  in  your  house,  my  brother,  or  has  Bahadur 
Shah  become  a  forswearer  of  brandy?  I  would 
not  that  drink  should  end  him,  but  the  well-mixed 
draught  leads  to  madness.  Consider. 

And  now  in  regard  to  this  land  of  the  Sahibs, 
follows  that  thou  hast  demanded.  God  is  my  wit- 
ness that  I  have  striven  to  understand  all  that  I 
saw  and  a  little  of  what  I  heard.  My  words  and 
intention  are  those  of  truth,  yet  it  may  be  that 
I  write  of  nothing  but  lies. 

Since  the  first  wonder  and  bewilderment  of  my 
beholding  is  gone  —  we  note  the  jewels  in  the 
ceiling-dome,  but  later  the  filth  on  the  floor — I 
see  clearly  that  this  town,  London,  which  is  as 
large  as  all  Jagesur,  is  accursed,  being  dark  and 
unclean,  devoid  of  sun,  and  full  of  low-born,  who 
are  perpetually  drunk,  and  howl  in  the  streets  like 

276 


ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION 

jackals,  men  and  women  together.  At  nightfall 
it  is  the  custom  of  countless  thousands  of  women 
to  descend  into  the  streets  and  sweep  them,  roar- 
ing, making  jests,  and  demanding  liquor.  At  the 
hour  of  this  attack  it  is  the  custom  of  the  house- 
holders to  take  their  wives  and  children  to  the 
playhouses  and  the  places  of  entertainment;  evil 
and  good  thus  returning  home  together  as  do  kine 
from  the  pools  at  sundown.  I  have  never  seen 
any  sight  like  this  sight  in  all  the  world,  and  I 
doubt  that  a  double  is  to  be  found  on  the  hither 
side  of  the  gates  of  Hell.  Touching  the  mystery 
of  their  craft,  it  is  an  ancient  one,  but  the  house- 
holders assemble  in  herds,  being  men  and  women, 
and  cry  aloud  to  their  God  that  it  is  not  there ; 
the  said  women  pounding  at  the  doors  with- 
out. Moreover,  upon  the  day  when  they  go  to 
prayer  the  drink-places  are  only  opened  when  the 
mosques  are  shut ;  as  who  should  dam  the  Jumna 
river  for  Friday  only.  Therefore  the  men  and 
women,  being  forced  to  accomplish  their  desires 
in  the  shorter  space,  become  the  more  furiously 
drunk,  and  roll  in  the  gutter  together.  They  are 
there  regarded  by  those  going  to  pray.  Further, 
and  for  visible  sign  that  the  place  is  forgotten  of 
God,  there  falls  upon  certain  days,  without  warn- 
ing, a  cold  darkness,  whereby  the  sun's  light  is  al- 
together cut  off  from  all  the  city  and  the  people, 
male  and  female,  and  the  drivers  of  the  vehicles 

277 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


grope  and  howl  in  this  Pit  at  high  noon,  none 
seeing  the  other.  The  air  being  filled  with  the 
smoke  of  Hell — sulphur  and  pitch  as  it  is  written 
—  they  die  speedily  with  gaspings,  and  so  are 
buried  in  the  dark.  This  is  a  terror  beyond  the 
pen,  but  by  my  hand  I  write  of  what  I  have  seen ! 

It  is  not  true  that  the  Sahibs  worship  one  God, 
as  do  we  of  the  Faith,  or  that  the  differences  in 
their  creed  be  like  those  now  running  between 
Shiah  and  Sunni.  I  am  but  a  fighting  man,  and 
no  darvesh,  caring,  as  thou  knowest,  as  much  for 
Shiah  as  Sunni.  But  I  have  spoken  to  many  peo- 
ple of  the  nature  of  their  Gods.  One  there  is  who 
is  the  head  of  the  Mukht-i-Fauj,^  and  he  is  wor- 
shipped by  men  in  blood-red  clothes,  who  shout 
and  become  without  sense.  Another  is  an  image, 
before  whom  they  burn  candles  and  incense  in  just 
such  a  place  as  I  have  seen  when  I  went  to  Ran- 
goon to  buy  Burma  ponies  for  the  Rao.  Yet  a 
third  has  naked  altars  facing  a  great  assembly  of 
dead.  To  him  they  sing  chiefly;  and  for  others 
there  is  a  woman  who  was  the  mother  of  the  great 
prophet  that  was  before  Mahomed.  The  com- 
mon folk  have  no  God,  but  worship  those  who 
may  speak  to  them  hanging  from  the  lamps  in 
the  street.  The  most  wise  people  worship  them- 
selves and  such  things  as  they  have  made  with 
their  mouths  and  their  hands,  and  this  is  to  be 
1  Salvation  Army. 

278 


ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION 

found  notably  among  the  barren  women,  of  whom 
there  are  many.  Thou  wilt  not  believe  this,  my 
brother.  Nor  did  I  when  I  was  first  told,  but  now 
it  is  nothing  to  me ;  so  greatly  has  the  foot  of 
travel  let  out  the  stirrup-holes  of  belief 

But  thou  wilt  say,  "  What  matter  to  us  whe- 
ther Ahmed's  beard  or  Mahmud's  be  the  longer ! 
Speak  what  thou  canst  of  the  Accomplishment 
of  Desire."  Would  that  thou  wert  here  to  talk 
face  to  face ;  to  walk  abroad  with  me  and  learn. 

With  this  people  it  is  a  matter  of  Heaven  and 
Hell  whether  Ahmed's  beard  and  Mahmud's  tally 
or  differ  but  by  a  hair.  Thou  knowest  the  system 
of  their  statecraft^  It  is  this.  Certain  men,  ap- 
pointing themselves,  go  about  and  speak  to  the 
low-born,  the  peasants,  the  leather-workers,  and 
the  cloth-dealers,  and  the  women,  saying :  "  Give 
us  leave  by  your  favour  to  speak  for  you  in  the 
council."  Securing  that  permission  by  large  prom- 
ises, they  return  to  the  council-place,  and,  sitting 
unarmed,  some  six  hundred  together,  speak  at 
random  each  for  himself  and  his  own  ball  of  low- 
born. The  viziers  and  dewans  of  the  Empress 
must  ever  beg  money  at  their  hands,  for  unless 
more  than  a  half  of  the  six  hundred  be  of  one 
heart  towards  the  spending  of  the  revenues,  neither 
horse  can  be  shod,  rifle  loaded,  or  man  clothed 
throughout  the  land.  Remember  this  very  con- 
tinually.   The  six  hundred  are  above  the  Em- 

279 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


press,  above  the  Viceroy  of  India,  above  the 
Head  of  the  Army  and  every  other  power  that 
thou  hast  ever  known.  Because  they  hold  the 
revenues. 

They  are  divided  into  two  hordes  —  the  one 
perpetually  hurling  abuse  at  the  other,  and  bid- 
ding the  low-born  hamper  and  rebel  against  all 
that  the  other  may  devise  for  government.  Ex- 
cept that  they  sit  unarmed,  and  so  call  each  other 
liar,  dog,  and  bastard  without  fear,  even  under  the 
shadow  of  the  Empress's  throne,  they  are  at  bitter 
war  which  is  without  any  end.  They  pit  lie 
against  lie,  till  the  low-born  and  common  folk 
grow  drunk  with  lies,  and  in  their  turn  begin  to 
lie  and  refuse  to  pay  the  revenues.  Further,  they 
divide  their  women  into  bands,  and  send  them 
into  this  fight  with  yellow  flowers  in  their  hands, 
and  since  the  belief  of  a  woman  is  but  her  lover's 
belief  stripped  of  judgment,  very  many  wild  words 
are  added.  Well  said  the  slave  girl  to  Mamun 
in  the  delectable  pages  of  the  Son  of  Abdullah: — 

Oppression  and  the  sword  slay  fast  — 
Thy  breath  kills  slowly  but  at  last." 

If  they  desire  a  thing  they  declare  that  it  is  true. 
If  they  desire  it  not,  though  that  were  Death  it- 
self, they  cry  aloud,  "  It  has  never  been."  Thus 
their  talk  is  the  talk  of  children,  and  like  children 

280 


ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION 

they  snatch  at  what  they  covet,  not  considering 
whether  it  be  their  own  or  another's.  And  in  their 
councils,  when  the  army  of  unreason  has  come  to 
the  defile  of  dispute,  and  there  is  no  more  talk  left 
on  either  side,  they,  dividing,  count  heads,  and  the 
will  of  that  side  which  has  the  larger  number  of 
heads  makes  that  law.  But  the  outnumbered  side 
run  speedily  among  the  common  people  and  bid 
them  trample  on  that  law,  and  slay  the  officers 
thereof  Follow  slaughter  by  night  of  men  un- 
armed, and  the  slaughter  of  cattle  and  insults  to 
women.  They  do  not  cut  off  the  noses  of  women, 
but  they  crop  their  hair  and  scrape  the  flesh  with 
pins.  Then  those  shameless  ones  of  the  council 
stand  up  before  the  judges  wiping  their  mouths 
and  making  oath.  They  say :  "  Before  God  we 
are  free  from  blame.  Did  we  say  *  Heave  that 
stone  out  of  that  road  and  kill  that  one  and  no 
other '  ?  "  So  they  are  not  made  shorter  by  the 
head  because  they  said  only :  "  Here  are  stones  and 
yonder  is  such  a  fellow  obeying  the  Law  which  is 
no  law  because  we  do  not  desire  it." 

Read  this  in  the  Rao  Sahib's  ear,  and  ask  him 
if  he  remembers  that  season  when  the  Manglot 
headmen  refused  revenue,  not  because  they  could 
not  pay,  but  because  they  judged  the  cess  extreme. 
I  and  thou  went  out  with  the  troopers  all  one  day 
and  the  black  lances  raised  the  thatch,  so  that  there 
was  hardly  any  need  of  firing;  and  no  man  was 

281 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 

slain.  But  this  land  is  at  secret  war  and  veiled 
killing.  In  five  years  of  peace  they  have  slain 
within  their  own  borders  and  of  their  own  kin  more 
men  than  would  have  fallen  had  the  ball  of  dis- 
sension been  left  to  the  mallet  of  the  army.  And 
yet  there  is  no  hope  of  peace,  for  soon  the  sides 
again  divide,  and  then  they  will  cause  to  be  slain 
more  men  unarmed  and  in  the  fields.  And  so 
much  for  that  matter,  which  is  to  our  advantage. 
There  is  a  better  thing  to  be  told,  and  one  tending 
to  the  Accomplishment  of  Desire.  Read  here 
with  a  fresh  mind  after  sleep.  I  write  as  I  under- 
stand. 

Above  all  this  war  without  honour  lies  that 
which  I  find  hard  to  put  into  writing,  and  thou 
knowest  I  am  unhandy  of  the  pen.  I  will  ride 
the  steed  of  Inability  sideways  at  the  wall  of  Ex- 
pression. The  earth  underfoot  is  sick  and  sour 
with  the  much  handling  of  man,  as  a  grazing- 
ground  sours  under  cattle ;  and  the  air  is  sick  too. 
Upon  the  ground  they  have  laid  in  this  town,  as  it 
were,  the  stinking  boards  of  a  stable,  and  through 
these  boards,  between  a  thousand  thousand  houses, 
the  rank  humours  of  the  earth  sweat  through  to 
the  over-burdened  air  that  returns  them  to  their 
breeding-place;  for  the  smoke  of  their  cooking-fires 
keeps  all  in  as  the  cover  the  juices  of  the  sheep. 
And  in  like  manner  there  is  a  green-sickness 
among  the  people,  and  especially  among  the  six 

282 


ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION 

hundred  men  who  talk.  Neither  winter  nor 
autumn  abates  that  malady  of  the  soul.  I  have 
seen  it  among  women  in  our  own  country,  and  in 
boys  not  yet  blooded  to  the  sword;  but  I  have 
'never  seen  so  much  thereof  before.  Through  the 
peculiar  operation  of  this  air  the  people,  abandon- 
ing honour  and  steadfastness,  question  all  author- 
ity, not  as  men  question,  but  as  girls,  whimper- 
ingly, with  pinchings  in  the  back  when  the  back 
is  turned,  and  mowing.  If  one  cries  in  the  streets, 
"  There  has  been  an  injustice,"  they  take  him  not 
to  make  complaint  to  those  appointed,  but  all  who 
pass,  drinking  his  words,  fly  clamorously  to  the 
house  of  the  accused  and  write  evil  things  of  him, 
his  wives  and  his  daughters;  for  they  take  no 
thought  to  the  weighing  of  evidence,  but  are  as 
women.  And  with  one  hand  they  beat  their  con- 
stables who  guard  the  streets,  and  with  the  other 
beat  the  constables  for  resenting  that  beating,  and 
fine  them.  When  they  have  in  all  things  made 
light  of  the  State  they  cry  to  the  State  for  help, 
and  it  is  given ;  so  that  the  next  time  they  will  cry 
more.  Such  as  are  oppressed  riot  through  the 
streets,  bearing  banners  that  hold  four  days'  labour 
and  a  week's  bread  in  cost  and  toil;  and  when 
neither  horse  nor  foot  can  pass  by  they  are  satis- 
fied. Others,  receiving  wages,  refuse  to  work  till 
they  get  more,  and  the  priests  help  them,  and  also 
men  of  the  six  hundred — for  where  rebellion  is 

283 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 

one  of  those  men  will  come  as  a  kite  to  a  dead 
bullock — and  priests,  talker,  and  men  together  de- 
clare that  it  is  right  because  these  will  not  work 
that  no  others  may  attempt.  In  this  manner  they 
have  so  confused  the  loading  and  the  unloading  of 
the  ships  that  come  to  this  town  that,  in  sending 
the  Rao  Sahib's  guns  and  harness,  I  saw  fit  to  send 
the  cases  by  the  train  to  another  ship  that  sailed 
from  another  place.  There  is  now  no  certainty  in 
any  sending.  But  who  injures  the  merchants  shuts 
the  door  of  well-being  on  the  city  and  the  army. 
And  ye  know  what  Sa'adi  saith :  — 

"  How  may  the  merchant  westward  fare 
When  he  hears  the  tale  of  the  tumults  there?'* 

No  man  can  keep  faith,  because  he  cannot  tell 
how  his  underlings  will  go.  They  have  made  the 
servant  greater  than  the  master,  for  that  he  is  the 
servant;  not  reckoning  that  each  is  equal  under 
God  to  the  appointed  task.  That  is  a  thing  to  be 
put  aside  in  the  cupboard  of  the  mind. 

Further,  the  misery  and  outcry  of  the  common 
folk,  of  whom  the  earth's  bosom  is  weary,  has  so 
wrought  upon  the  minds  of  certain  people  who 
have  never  slept  under  fear  nor  seen  the  flat  edge 
of  the  sword  on  the  heads  of  a  mob,  that  they  cry 
out :  "  Let  us  abate  everything  that  is,  and  alto- 
gether labour  with  our  bare  hands."    Their  hands 

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ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION 


in  that  employ  would  fester  at  the  second  stroke ; 
and  I  have  seen,  for  all  their  unrest  at  the  agonies 
of  others,  that  they  abandon  no  whit  of  soft  liv- 
ing. Unknowing  the  common  folk,  or  indeed  the 
minds  of  men,  they  offer  strong  drink  of  words, 
such  as  they  themselves  use,  to  empty  bellies; 
and  that  wine  breeds  drunkenness  of  soul.  The 
distressful  persons  stand  all  day  long  at  the  door  of 
the  drink-places  to  the  number  of  very  many  thou- 
sands. The  well-wishing  people  of  small  discern- 
ment give  them  words  or  pitifully  attempt  in 
schools  to  turn  them  into  craftsmen,  weavers,  or 
builders,  of  whom  there  be  more  than  enough. 
Yet  they  have  not  the  wisdom  to  look  at  the  hands 
of  the  taught,  whereon  a  man's  craft  and  that  of 
his  father  is  written  by  God  and  Necessity.  They 
believe  that  the  son  of  a  drunkard  shall  drive  a 
straight  chisel  and  the  charioteer  do  plaster-work. 
They  take  no  thought  in  the  dispensation  of  gen- 
erosity, which  is  as  the  closed  fingers  of  a  water- 
scooping  palm.  Therefore  the  rough  timber  of  a 
very  great  army  drifts  unhewn  through  the  slime 
of  their  streets.  If  the  Government,  which  is  to- 
day and  to-morrow  changes,  spent  on  these  hope- 
less ones  some  money  to  clothe  and  equip,  I  should 
not  write  what  I  write.  But  these  people  despise 
the  trade  of  arms,  and  rest  content  with  the  mem- 
ory of  old  battles;  the  women  and  the  talking- 
men  aiding  them. 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 

Thou  wilt  say :  "  Why  speak  continually  of 
women  and  fools  ?  "  I  answer  by  God,  the  Fash- 
ioner of  the  Heart,  the  fools  sit  among  the  six 
hundred,  and  the  women  sway  their  councils.  Hast 
thou  forgotten  when  the  order  came  across  the 
seas  that  rotted  out  the  armies  of  the  English  with 
us,  so  that  soldiers  fell  sick  by  the  hundred  where 
but  ten  had  sickened  before  ?  That  was  the  work 
of  not  more  than  twenty  of  the  men  and  some 
fifty  of  the  barren  women.  I  have  seen  three  or 
four  of  them,  male  and  female,  and  they  triumph 
openly,  in  the  name  of  their  God,  because  three 
regiments  of  the  white  troops  are  not.  This  is  to 
our  advantage,  because  the  sword  with  the  rust- 
spot  breaks  over  the  turban  of  the  enemy.  But  if 
they  thus  tear  their  own  flesh  and  blood  ere  their 
madness  be  risen  to  its  height,  what  will  they  do 
when  the  moon  is  full 

Seeing  that  power  lay  in  the  hands  of  the  six 
hundred,  and  not  in  the  Viceroy  or  elsewhere,  I 
have  throughout  my  stay  sought  the  shadow  of 
those  among  them  who  talk  most  and  most  ex- 
travagantly. They  lead  the  common  folk,  and 
receive  permission  of  their  good-will.  It  is  the 
desire  of  some  of  these  men  —  indeed,  of  almost 
as  many  as  caused  the  rotting  of  the  English  army 
—  that  our  lands  and  peoples  should  accurately 
resemble  those  of  the  English  upon  this  very  day. 
May  God,  the  Contemner  of  Folly,  forbid!  I 

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ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION 

myself  am  accounted  a  show  among  them,  and  of 
us  and  ours  they  know  naught,  some  calling  me 
Hindu  and  others  Rajput,  and  using  towards  me, 
in  ignorance,  slave-talk  and  expressions  of  great 
disrespect.  Some  of  them  are  well-born,  but  the 
greater  part  are  low-born,  coarse-skinned,  waving 
their  arms,  high-voiced,  without  dignity,  slack  in 
the  mouth,  shifty-eyed,  and,  as  I  have  said,  swayed 
by  the  wind  of  a  woman's  cloak. 

Now  this  is  a  tale  but  two  days  old.  There 
was  a  company  at  meat,  and  a  high-voiced  woman 
spoke  to  me,  in  the  face  of  the  men,  of  the  affairs 
of  our  womankind.  It  was  her  ignorance  that 
made  each  word  an  edged  insult.  Remembering 
this,  I  held  my  peace  till  she  had  spoken  a  new 
law  as  to  the  control  of  our  zenanas,  and  of  all 
who  are  behind  the  curtains. 

Then  I  —  "  Hast  thou  ever  felt  the  life  stir  under 
thy  heart  or  laid  a  little  son  between  thy  breasts, 
O  most  unhappy  ^  "  Thereto  she,  hotly,  with  a 
haggard  eye  —  "  No,  for  I  am  a  free  woman,  and 
no  servant  of  babes."  Then  I,  softly  — "  God  deal 
lightly  with  thee,  my  sister,  for  thou  art  in  heavier 
bondage  than  any  slave,  and  the  fuller  half  of  the 
earth  is  hidden  from  thee.  The  first  ten  years  of 
the  life  of  a  man  are  his  mother's,  and  from  the 
dusk  to  the  dawn  surely  the  wife  may  command 
the  husband.  Is  it  a  great  thing  to  stand  back  in 
the  waking  hours  while  the  men  go  abroad  un- 

287 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


hampered  by  thy  hands  on  the  bridle-rein  ?  "  Then 
she  wondered  that  a  heathen  should  speak  thus  : 
yet  she  is  a  woman  honoured  among  these  men, 
and  openly  professes  that  she  hath  no  profession 
of  faith  in  her  mouth.  Read  this  in  the  ear  of  the 
Rao  Sahib,  and  demand  how  it  would  fare  with 
me  if  I  brought  such  a  woman  for  his  use.  It 
were  worse  than  that  yellow  desert-bred  girl  from 
Cutch,  who  set  the  girls  to  fighting  for  her  own 
pleasure,  and  slippered  the  young  prince  across  the 
mouth.    Rememberest  thou 

In  truth  the  fountain-head  of  power  is  putrid 
with  long  standing  still.  These  men  and  women 
would  make  of  all  India  a  dung-cake,  and  would 
fain  leave  the  mark  of  the  fingers  upon  it.  And 
they  have  power  and  the  control  of  the  revenues, 
and  that  is  why  I  am  so  particular  in  description. 
fbej  have  power  over  all  India.  Of  what  they 
speak  they  understand  nothing,  for  the  low-born's 
soul  is  bounded  by  his  field,  and  he  grasps  not  the 
connection  of  affairs  from  pole  to  pole.  They  boast 
openly  that  the  Viceroy  and  the  others  are  their 
servants.  When  the  masters  are  mad,  what  shall 
the  servants  do? 

Some  hold  that  all  war  is  sin,  and  Death  the 
greatest  fear  under  God.  Others  declare  with  the 
Prophet  that  it  is  evil  to  drink,  to  which  teaching 
their  streets  bear  evident  witness ;  and  others  there 
are,  specially  the  low-born,  who  aver  that  all  do- 

288 


ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION 

minion  is  wicked  and  sovereignty  of  the  sword 
accursed.  These  protested  to  me,  making,  as  it 
were,  an  apology  that  their  kin  should  hold 
Hindustan,  and  hoping  that  some  day  they  would 
withdraw.  Knowing  well  the  breed  of  white  man 
in  our  borders,  I  would  have  laughed,  but  forbore, 
remembering  that  these  speakers  had  power  in  the 
counting  of  heads.  Yet  others  cry  aloud  against 
the  taxation  of  Hindustan  under  the  Sahibs'  rule. 
To  this  I  assent,  remembering  the  yearly  mercy 
of  the  Rao  Sahib  when  the  turbans  of  the  troopers 
come  through  the  blighted  corn,  and  the  women's 
anklets  go  into  the  melting-pot.  But  I  am  no 
good  speaker,  '^hat  is  the  duty  of  the  boys  from 
Bengal  —  hill-asses  with  an  eastern  bray  —  Mah- 
rattas  from  Poona,  and  the  like.  These,  moving 
among  fools,  represent  themselves  as  the  sons  of 
some  one,  being  beggar-taught,  offspring  of  grain- 
dealers,  curriers,  sellers  of  bottles,  and  money- 
lenders, as  thou  knowest.  Now,  we  of  Jagesur 
owe  naught  save  friendship  to  the  English  who 
took  us  by  the  sword,  and  having  taken  us  let  us 
go,  assuring  the  Rao  Sahib's  succession  for  all 
time.  But  these  base-born,  having  won  their  learn- 
ing through  the  mercy  of  the  Government,  attired 
in  English  clothes,  forswearing  the  faith  of  their 
fathers  for  gain,  spread  rumour  and  debate  against 
the  Government,  and  are  therefore  very  dear  to 
certain  of  the  six  hundred.    I  have  heard  these 

289 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


cattle  speak  as  princes  and  rulers  of  men,  and  I 
have  laughed,  but  not  altogether. 

Once  it  happened  that  a  son  of  some  grain-bag 
sat  with  me  at  meat,  who  was  arrayed  and  speak- 
ing after  the  manner  of  the  English.  At  each 
mouthful  he  committed  perjury  against  the  salt 
that  he  had  eaten,  the  men  and  women  applaud- 
ing. When,  craftily  falsifying,  he  had  magnified 
oppression  and  invented  untold  wrong,  together 
with  the  desecration  of  his  tun-bellied  gods,  he 
demanded  in  the  name  of  his  people  the  govern- 
ment of  all  our  land,  and  turning,  laid  palm  to 
my  shoulder,  saying  — "  Here  is  one  who  is  with 
us,  albeit  he  professes  another  faith ;  he  will  bear 
out  my  words."  This  he  delivered  in  English, 
and,  as  it  were,  exhibited  me  to  that  company. 
Preserving  a  smiling  countenance,  I  answered  in 
our  own  tongue — "  Take  away  that  hand,  man 
without  a  father,  or  the  folly  of  these  folk  shall  not 
save  thee,  nor  my  silence  guard  thy  reputation. 
Sit  off,  herd!"  And  in  their  speech  I  said  — 
"  He  speaks  truth.  When  the  favour  and  wis- 
dom of  the  English  allows  us  yet  a  little  larger 
share  in  the  burden  and  the  reward,  the  Musal- 
man  will  deal  with  the  Hindu."  He  alone  saw 
what  was  in  my  heart.  I  was  merciful  towards 
him  because  he  was  accomplishing  our  desires; 
but  remember  that  his  father  is  one  Durga  Charan 
Laha,  in  Calcutta.    Lay  thy  hand  upon  his  shoul- 

290 


ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION 

der  if  ever  chance  sends.  It  is  not  good  that 
bottle-dealers  and  auctioneers  should  paw  the  sons 
of  princes.  I  walk  abroad  sometimes  with  the 
man,  that  all  the  world  may  know  the  Hindu  and 
Musalman  are  one,  but  when  we  come  to  the  un- 
frequented streets  I  bid  him  walk  behind  me,  and 
that  is  sufficient  honour. 
And  why  did  I  eat  dirt  ? 

Thus,  my  brother,  it  seems  to  my  heart,  which 
has  almost  burst  in  the  consideration  of  these 
matters.  The  Bengalis  and  the  beggar-taught 
boys  know  well  that  the  Sahibs'  power  to  govern 
comes  neither  from  the  Viceroy  nor  the  head  of 
the  army,  but  from  the  hands  of  the  six  hundred 
in  this  town,  and  peculiarly  those  who  talk  most. 
They  will  therefore  yearly  address  themselves  more 
and  more  to  that  protection,  and  working  on  the 
green-sickness  of  the  land,  as  has  ever  been  their 
custom,  will  in  time  cause,  through  the  perpetually 
instigated  interference  of  the  six  hundred,  the  hand 
of  the  Indian  Government  to  become  inoperative, 
so  that  no  measure  nor  order  may  be  carried  through 
without  clamour  and  argument  on  their  part ;  for 
that  is  the  delight  of  the  English  at  this  hour. 
Have  I  overset  the  bounds  of  possibility?  No. 
Even  thou  must  have  heard  that  one  of  the  six 
hundred,  having  neither  knowledge,  fear,  nor  rev- 
erence before  his  eyes,  has  made  in  sport  a  new 
and  a  written  scheme  for  the  government  of  Ben- 

2Q1 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


gal,  and  openly  shows  it  abroad  as  a  king  might 
read  his  crowning  proclamation.  And  this  man, 
meddling  in  affairs  of  State,  speaks  in  the  council 
for  an  assemblage  of  leather-dressers,  makers  of 
boots  and  harness,  and  openly  glories  in  that  he 
has  no  God.  Has  either  minister  of  the  Empress, 
Empress,  Viceroy,  or  any  other  raised  a  voice 
against  this  leather-man  ?  Is  not  his  power  there- 
fore to  be  sought,  and  that  of  his  like-thinkers  with 
it?    Thou  seest. 

The  telegraph  is  the  servant  of  the  six  hundred, 
and  all  the  Sahibs  in  India,  omitting  not  one,  are 
the  servants  of  the  telegraph.  Yearly,  too,  thou 
knowest,  the  beggar-taught  will  hold  that  which 
they  call  their  Congress,  first  at  one  place  and  then 
at  another,  leavening  Hindustan  with  rumour, 
echoing  the  talk  among  the  low-born  people  here, 
and  demanding  that  they,  like  the  six  hundred, 
control  the  revenues.  And  they  will  bring  every 
point  and  letter  over  the  heads  of  the  Governors 
and  the  Lieutenant-Governors,  and  whoever  hold 
authority,  and  cast  it  clamorously  at  the  feet  of  the 
six  hundred  here ;  and  certain  of  those  word-con- 
founders  and  the  barren  women  will  assent  to  their 
demands,  and  others  will  weary  of  disagreement. 
Thus  fresh  confusion  will  be  thrown  into  the  coun- 
cils of  the  Empress,  even  as  an  island  near  by  is 
helped  and  comforted  into  the  smothered  war  of 
which  I  have  written.    Then  yearly,  as  they  have 

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ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION 

begun  and  we  have  seen,  the  low-born  men  of  the 
six  hundred  anxious  for  honour  will  embark  for 
our  land,  and,  staying  a  little  while,  will  gather 
round  them  and  fawn  before  the  beggar-taught, 
and  these  departing  from  their  side  will  assuredly 
inform  the  peasants,  and  the  fighting  men  for  whom 
there  is  no  employ,  that  there  is  a  change  toward 
and  a  coming  of  help  from  over  the  seas.  That  ru- 
mour will  not  grow  smaller  in  the  spreading.  And, 
most  of  all,  the  Congress,  when  it  is  not  under  the 
eye  of  the  six  hundred — who,  though  they  foment 
dissension  and  death,  pretend  great  reverence  for 
the  law  which  is  no  law — will,  stepping  aside,  de- 
liver uneasy  words  to  the  peasants,  speaking,  as  it 
has  done  already,  of  the  remission  of  taxation, 
and  promising  a  new  rule.  That  is  to  our  advan- 
tage, but  the  flower  of  danger  is  in  the  seed  of  it. 
Thou  knowest  what  evil  a  rumour  may  do;  though 
in  the  Black  Year,  when  thou  and  I  were  young, 
our  standing  to  the  English  brought  gain  to  Ja- 
gesur  and  enlarged  our  borders,  for  the  Govern- 
ment gave  us  land  on  both  sides.  Of  the  Con- 
gress itself  nothing  is  to  be  feared  that  ten  troopers 
could  not  remove,  but  if  its  words  too  soon  per- 
turb the  minds  of  those  waiting  or  of  princes  in 
idleness^  a  flame  may  come  before  the  time^  and  since 
there  are  now  many  white  hands  to  quench  it,  all 
will  return  to  the  former  condition.  If  the  flame 
be  kept  under  we  need  have  no  fear,  because, 

293 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


sweating  and  panting,  the  one  trampling  on  the 
other,  the  white  people  here  are  digging  their  own 
graves.  The  hand  of  the  Viceroy  will  be  tied, 
the  hearts  of  the  Sahibs  will  be  downcast,  and  all 
eyes  will  turn  to  England  disregarding  any  orders. 
Meantime,  keeping  tally  on  the  sword-hilt  against 
the  hour  when  the  score  must  be  made  smooth  by 
the  blade,  it  is  well  for  us  to  assist  and  greatly  be- 
friend the  Bengali  that  he  may  get  control  of  the 
revenues  and  the  posts.  We  must  even  write  to 
England  that  we  be  of  one  blood  with  the  school- 
men. It  is  not  long  to  wait;  by  my  head  it  is 
not  long!  This  people  are  like  the  great  king 
Ferisht,  who,  eaten  with  the  scab  of  long  idleness, 
plucked  off  his  crown  and  danced  naked  among 
the  dung-hills.  But  I  have  not  forgotten  the  pro- 
fitable end  of  that  tale.  The  vizier  set  him  upon 
a  horse  and  led  him  into  battle.  Presently  his 
health  returned,  and  he  caused  to  be  engraven  on 
the  crown : — 

Though  I  was  cast  away  by  the  king 

Yet,  through  God,  I  returned  and  he  added  to  my  brilliance 
Two  great  rubies  (Balkh  and  Iran).*' 

If  this  people  be  purged  and  bled  out  by  battle, 
their  sickness  may  go  and  their  eyes  be  cleared  to 
the  necessities  of  things.  But  they  are  now  far 
gone  in  rottenness.  Even  the  stallion,  too  long 
heel-roped,  forgets  how  to  fight:  and  these  men 

294 


ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION 

are  mules.  I  do  not  lie  when  I  say  that  unless 
they  are  bled  and  taught  with  the  whip,  they  will 
hear  and  obey  all  that  is  said  by  the  Congress  and 
the  black  men  here,  hoping  to  turn  our  land  into 
their  own  orderless  Jehannum.  For  the  men  of 
the  six  hundred,  being  chiefly  low-born  and  un- 
used to  authority,  desire  much  to  exercise  rule, 
extending  their  arms  to  the  sun  and  moon,  and 
shouting  very  greatly  in  order  to  hear  the  echo 
of  their  voices,  each  one  saying  some  new  strange 
thing  and  parting  the  goods  and  honour  of  others 
among  the  rapacious,  that  he  may  obtain  the  fa- 
vour of  the  common  folk.  And  all  this  is  to  our 
advantage. 

Therefore  write,  that  they  may  read,  of  gratitude 
and  of  love  and  the  law.  I  myself,  when  I  return, 
will  show  how  the  dish  should  be  dressed  to  take 
the  taste  here ;  for  it  is  here  that  we  must  come. 
Cause  to  be  established  in  Jagesur  a  newspaper, 
and  fill  it  with  translations  of  their  papers.  A 
beggar-taught  may  be  brought  from  Calcutta  for 
thirty  rupees  a  month,  and  if  he  writes  in  Gur- 
mukhi  our  people  cannot  read.  Create,  further, 
councils  other  than  the  panchayats  of  headmen, 
village  by  village  and  district  by  district,  instruct- 
ing them  beforehand  what  to  say  according  to  the 
order  of  the  Rao.  Print  all  these  things  in  a  book 
in  English,  and  send  it  to  this  place,  and  to  every 
man  of  the  six  hundred.    Bid  the  beggar-taught 

295 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


write  in  front  of  all  that  Jagesur  follows  fast  on 
the  English  plan.  If  thou  squeezest  the  Hindu 
shrine  at  Theegkot,  and  it  is  ripe,  remit  the  head- 
tax,  and  perhaps  the  marriage-tax,  with  great 
publicity.  But  above  all  things  keep  the  troops 
ready,  and  in  good  pay,  even  though  we  glean 
the  stubble  with  the  wheat  and  stint  the  Rao 
Sahib's  women.  All  must  go  softly.  Protest 
thou  thy  love  for  the  voice  of  the  common  people 
in  all  things,  and  affect  to  despise  the  troops. 
That  shall  be  taken  for  a  witness  in  this  land. 
The  headship  of  the  troops  must  be  mine.  See 
that  Bahadur  Shah's  wits  go  wandering  over  the 
wine,  but  do  not  send  him  to  God.  I  am  an  old 
man,  but  I  may  yet  live  to  lead. 

If  this  people  be  not  bled  out  and  regain 
strength,  we,  watching  how  the  tide  runs,  when 
we  see  that  the  shadow  of  their  hand  is  all  but 
lifted  from  Hindustan,  must  bid  the  Bengali  de- 
mand the  removal  of  the  residue  or  set  going  an 
uneasiness  to  that  end.  We  must  have  a  care 
neither  to  hurt  the  life  of  the  Englishmen  nor  the 
honour  of  their  women,  for  in  that  case  six  times 
the  six  hundred  here  could  not  hold  those  who 
remain  from  making  the  land  swim.  We  must 
care  that  they  are  not  mobbed  by  the  Bengalis, 
but  honourably  escorted,  while  the  land  is  held 
down  with  the  threat  of  the  sword  if  a  hair  of 
their  heads  fall.   Thus  we  shall  gain  a  good  name, 

296 


ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION 

and  when  rebellion  is  unaccompanied  by  blood- 
shed, as  has  lately  befallen  in  a  far  country,  the 
English,  disregarding  honour,  call  it  by  a  new- 
name  :  even  one  who  has  been  a  minister  of  the 
Empress,  but  is  now  at  war  against  the  law,  praises 
it  openly  before  the  common  folk.  So  greatly 
are  they  changed  since  the  days  of  Nikhal  Seyn  1^ 
And  then,  if  all  go  well  and  the  Sahibs,  who 
through  continual  checking  and  browbeating  will 
have  grown  sick  at  heart,  see  themselves  aban- 
doned by  their  kin — for  this  people  have  allowed 
their  greatest  to  die  on  dry  sand  through  delay 
and  fear  of  expense — we  may  go  forward.  This 
people  are  swayed  by  names.  A  new  name  there- 
fore must  be  given  to  the  rule  of  Hindustan  (and 
that  the  Bengalis  may  settle  among  themselves), 
and  there  will  be  many  writings  and  oaths  of  love, 
such  as  the  little  island  over  seas  makes  when  it 
would  fight  more  bitterly;  and  after  that  the  resi- 
due are  diminished  the  hour  comes,  and  we  must 
strike  so  that  the  Sword  is  never  any  more  ques- 
tioned. 

By  the  favour  of  God  and  the  conservation  of 
the  Sahibs  these  many  years,  Hindustan  contains 
very  much  plunder,  which  we  can  in  no  way  eat 
hurriedly.  There  will  be  to  our  hand  the  scaffold- 
ing of  the  house  of  state,  for  the  Bengali  shall  con- 
tinue to  do  our  work,  and  must  account  to  us  for 

1  Nicholson,  a  gentleman  once  of  some  notoriety  in  India. 

297 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


the  revenue,  and  learn  his  seat  in  the  order  of 
things.  Whether  the  Hindu  kings  of  the  West 
will  break  in  to  share  that  spoil  before  we  have 
swept  it  altogether,  thou  knowest  better  than  I; 
but  be  certain  that,  then,  strong  hands  will  seek 
their  own  thrones,  and  it  may  be  that  the  days  of 
the  king  of  Delhi  will  return  if  we  only,  curbing 
our  desires,  pay  due  obedience  to  the  outward 
appearances  and  the  names.  Thou  rememberest 
the  old  song :  — 

Hadst  thou  not  called  it  Love,  I  had  said  it  were  a  drawD 
sword. 

But  since  thou  hast  spoken,  I  believe  and  —  I  die.** 

It  is  in  my  heart  that  there  will  remain  in  our 
land  a  few  Sahibs  undesirous  of  returning  to  Eng- 
land. These  we  must  cherish  and  protect,  that  by 
their  skill  and  cunning  we  may  hold  together  and 
preserve  unity  in  time  of  war.  The  Hindu  kings 
will  never  trust  a  Sahib  in  the  core  of  their  coun- 
sels. I  say  again  that  if  we  of  the  Faith  confide 
in  them,  we  shall  trample  upon  our  enemies. 

Is  all  this  a  dream  to  thee,  gray  fox  of  my 
mother's  bearing^  I  have  written  of  what  I  have 
seen  and  heard,  but  from  the  same  clay  two  men 
will  never  fashion  platters  alike,  nor  from  the  same 
facts  draw  equal  conclusions.  Once  more,  there 
is  a  green-sickness  upon  all  the  people  of  this 
country.    They  eat  dirt  even  now  to  stay  their 

298 


ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION 

cravings.  Honour  and  stability  have  departed 
from  their  councils,  and  the  knife  of  dissension 
has  brought  down  upon  their  heads  the  flapping 
tent-flies  of  confusion.  The  Empress  is  old.  They 
speak  disrespectfully  of  her  and  hers  in  the  street. 
They  despise  the  sword,  and  believe  that  the  tongue 
and  the  pen  sway  all.  The  measure  of  their  igno- 
rance and  their  soft  belief  is  greater  than  the  mea- 
sure of  the  wisdom  of  Solomon,  the  son  of  David. 
All  these  things  I  have  seen  whom  they  regard  as 
a  wild  beast  and  a  spectacle.  By  God  the  En- 
lightener  of  Intelligence,  if  the  Sahibs  in  India 
could  breed  sons  who  lived  so  that  their  houses 
might  be  established,  I  would  almost  fling  my 
sword  at  the  Viceroy's  feet,  saying :  "  Let  us  here 
fight  for  a  kingdom  together,  thine  and  mine,  dis- 
regarding the  babble  across  the  water.  Write  a 
letter  to  England,  saying  that  we  love  them,  but 
would  depart  from  their  camps  and  make  all  clean 
under  a  new  crown."  But  the  Sahibs  die  out  at 
the  third  generation  in  our  land,  and  it  may  be 
that  I  dream  dreams.  Yet  not  altogether.  Until 
a  white  calamity  of  steel  and  bloodshed,  the  bear- 
ing of  burdens,  the  trembling  for  life,  and  the  hot 
rage  of  insult  — for  pestilence  would  unman  them  if 
eyes  not  unused  to  men  see  clear  —  befall  this  people, 
our  path  is  safe.  They  are  sick.  The  Fountain 
of  Power  is  a  gutter  which  all  may  defile  ;  and  the 
voices  of  the  men  are  overborne  by  the  squealings 

299 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


of  mules  and  the  whinnying  of  barren  mares-  If 
through  adversity  they  become  wise,  then,  my 
brother,  strike  with  and  for  them,  and  later,  when 
thou  and  I  are  dead,  and  the  disease  grows  up 
again  (the  young  men  bred  in  the  school  of  fear 
and  trembling  and  word-confounding  have  yet  to 
live  out  their  appointed  span),  those  who  have 
fought  on  the  side  of  the  English  may  ask  and  re- 
ceive what  they  choose.  At  present  seek  quietly 
to  confuse,  and  delay,  and  evade,  and  make  of  no 
effect.  In  this  business  four  score  of  the  six  hun- 
dred are  our  true  helpers. 

Now  the  pen,  and  the  ink,  and  the  hand  weary 
together,  as  thy  eyes  will  weary  in  this  reading. 
Be  it  known  to  my  house  that  I  return  soon,  but 
do  not  speak  of  the  hour.  Letters  without  name 
have  come  to  me  touching  my  honour.  The 
honour  of  my  house  is  thine.  If  they  be,  as  I  be- 
lieve, the  work  of  a  dismissed  groom,  Futteh  Lai, 
that  ran  at  the  tail  of  my  wine-coloured  Katthia- 
war  stallion,  his  village  is  beyond  Manglot ;  look 
to  it  that  his  tongue  no  longer  lengthens  itself  on 
the  names  of  those  who  are  mine.  If  it  be  other- 
wise, put  a  guard  upon  my  house  till  I  come,  and 
especially  see  that  no  sellers  of  jewelry,  astrolo- 
gers, or  midwives  have  entrance  to  the  women's 
rooms.  We  rise  by  our  slaves,  and  by  our  slaves 
we  fall,  as  it  was  said.  To  all  who  are  of  my  re- 
membrance I  bring  gifts  according  to  their  worth. 

qoo 


ONE  VIEW  OF  THE  QUESTION 

I  have  written  twice  of  the  gift  that  I  would  cause 
to  be  given  to  Bahadur  Shah. 

The  blessing  of  God  and  his  Prophet  on  thee 
and  thine  till  the  end  which  is  appointe(i.  Give 
me  felicity  by  informing  me  of  the  state  of  thy 
health.  My  head  is  at  the  Rao  Sahib's  feet ;  my 
sword  is  at  his  left  side,  a  little  above  my  heart. 
Follows  my  seal. 


301 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 


Then  she  let  them  down  by  a  cord  through  the  window; 
tor  her  house  was  upon  the  town-wall,  and  she  dwelt  upon  the 
wall. — Joshua  ii.  15. 

Lalun  is  a  member  of  the  most  ancient  profession 
in  the  world.  Lilith  was  her  very-great-grand- 
mamma, and  that  was  before  the  days  of  Eve,  as 
every  one  knows.  In  the  West,  people  say  rude 
things  about  Lalun's  profession,  and  write  lectures 
about  it,  and  distribute  the  lectures  to  young  per- 
sons in  order  that  Morality  may  be  preserved.  In 
the  East,  where  the  profession  is  hereditary,  de- 
scending from  mother  to  daughter,  nobody  writes 
lectures  or  takes  any  notice ;  and  that  is  a  distinct 
proof  of  the  inability  of  the  East  to  manage  its 
own  affairs. 

Lalun's  real  husband,  for  even  ladies  of  Lalun's 
profession  in  the  East  must  have  husbands,  was  a 
big  jujube-tree.  Her  Mamma,  who  had  married 
a  fig-tree,  spent  ten  thousand  rupees  on  Lalun's 
wedding,  which  was  blessed  by  forty-seven  clergy- 
men of  Mamma's  church,  and  distributed  five  thou- 
sand rupees  in  charity  to  the  poor.    And  that  was 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 


the  custom  of  the  land.  The  advantages  of  having 
a  jujube-tree  for  a  husband  are  obvious.  You  can- 
not hurt  his  feehngs,  and  he  looks  imposing. 

Lalun's  husband  stood  on  the  plain  outside  the 
City  walls,  and  Lalun's  house  was  upon  the  east 
wall,  facing  the  river.  If  you  fell  from  the  broad 
window-seat  you  dropped  thirty  feet  sheer  into  the 
City  Ditch.  But  if  you  stayed  where  you  should 
and  looked  forth,  you  saw  all  the  cattle  of  the  City 
being  driven  down  to  water,  the  students  of  the 
Government  College  playing  cricket,  the  high 
grass  and  trees  that  fringed  the  river-bank,  the 
great  sand-bars  that  ribbed  the  river,  the  red  tombs 
of  dead  Emperors  beyond  the  river,  and  very  far 
away  through  the  blue  heat-haze,  a  glint  of  the 
snows  of  the  Himalayas. 

Wali  Dad  used  to  lie  in  the  window-seat  for 
hours  at  a  time,  watching  this  view.  He  was  a 
young  Muhammadan  who  was  suffering  acutely 
from  education  of  the  English  variety,  and  knew 
it.  His  father  had  sent  him  to  a  Mission-school 
to  get  wisdom,  and  Wali  Dad  had  absorbed  more 
than  ever  his  father  or  the  Missionaries  intended 
he  should.  When  his  father  died,  Wali  Dad  was 
independent  and  spent  two  years  experimenting 
with  the  creeds  of  the  Earth  and  reading  books 
that  are  of  no  use  to  anybody. 

After  he  had  made  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to 
enter  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  and  the  Presby- 

303 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 

terian  fold  at  the  same  time  (the  Missionaries 
found  him  out  and  called  him  names,  but  they 
did  not  understand  his  trouble),  he  discovered 
Lalun  on  the  City  wall  and  became  the  most  con- 
stant of  her  few  admirers.  He  possessed  a  head 
that  English  artists  at  home  would  rave  over  and 
paint  amid  impossible  surroundings  —  a  face  that 
female  novelists  would  use  with  delight  through 
nine  hundred  pages.  In  reality  he  was  only  a 
clean-bred  young  Muhammadan,  with  penciled 
eyebrows,  small-cut  nostrils,  little  feet  and  hands, 
and  a  very  tired  look  in  his  eyes.  By  virtue  of 
his  twenty-two  years  he  had  grown  a  neat  black 
beard  which  he  stroked  with  pride  and  kept  deli- 
cately scented.  His  life  seemed  to  be  divided 
between  borrowing  books  from  me  and  making 
love  to  Lalun  in  the  window-seat.  He  composed 
songs  about  her,  and  some  of  the  songs  are  sung 
to  this  day  in  the  City  from  the  Street  of  the 
Mutton-Butchers  to  the  Copper-Smiths'  ward. 

One  song,  the  prettiest  of  all,  says  that  the 
beauty  of  Lalun  was  so  great  that  it  troubled  the 
hearts  of  the  British  Government  and  caused  them 
to  lose  their  peace  of  mind.  That  is  the  way  the 
song  is  sung  in  the  streets ;  but,  if  you  examine  it 
carefully  and  know  the  key  to  the  explanation, 
you  will  find  that  there  are  three  puns  in  it  —  on 
"  beauty,"  "  heart,"  and  "  peace  of  m  ind," — so  that 
it  runs :  "  By  the  subtlety  of  Lalun  the  administra- 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 


tion  of  the  Government  was  troubled  and  it  lost 
such  and  such  a  man."    When  Wali  Dad  sings  * 
that  song  his  eyes  glow  like  hot  coals,  and  Lalun 
leans  back  among  the  cushions  and  throws  bunches 
of  jasmine-buds  at  Wali  Dad. 

But  first  it  is  necessary  to  explain  something 
about  the  Supreme  Government  which  is  above 
all  and  below  all  and  behind  all.  Gentlemen 
come  from  England,  spend  a  few  weeks  in  India, 
walk  round  this  great  Sphinx  of  the  Plains,  and 
write  books  upon  its  ways  and  its  works,  denounc- 
ing or  praising  it  as  their  own  ignorance  prompts. 
Consequently  all  the  world  knows  how  the  Su- 
preme Government  conducts  itself  But  no  one, 
not  even  the  Supreme  Government,  knows  every- 
thing about  the  administration  of  the  Empire. 
Year  by  year  England  sends  out  fresh  drafts  for 
the  first  fighting-line,  which  is  officially  called  the 
Indian  Civil  Service.  These  die,  or  kill  them- 
selves by  overwork,  or  are  worried  to  death  or 
broken  in  health  and  hope  in  order  that  the  land 
may  be  protected  from  death  and  sickness,  famine 
and  war,  and  may  eventually  become  capable  of 
standing  alone.  It  will  never  stand  alone,  but  the 
idea  is  a  pretty  one,  and  men  are  willing  to  die  for 
it,  and  yearly  the  work  of  pushing  and  coaxing 
and  scolding  and  petting  the  country  into  good 
living  goes  forward.  If  an  advance  be  made  all 
credit  is  given  to  the  native,  while  the  Englishmen 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


stand  back  and  wipe  their  foreheads.  If  a  failure 
occurs  the  Englishmen  step  forward  and  take  the 
blame.  Overmuch  tenderness  of  this  kind  has  bred 
a  strong  belief  among  many  natives  that  the  native 
is  capable  of  administering  the  country,  and  many 
devout  Englishmen  believe  this  also,  because  the 
theory  is  stated  in  beautiful  English  with  all  the 
latest  political  colour. 

There  be  other  men  who,  though  uneducated, 
see  visions  and  dream  dreams,  and  they,  too,  hope 
to  administer  the  country  in  their  own  way — that 
is  to  say,  with  a  garnish  of  Red  Sauce.  Such  men 
must  exist  among  two  hundred  million  people, 
and,  if  they  are  not  attended  to,  may  cause  trouble 
and  even  break  the  great  idol  called  "  Pax  Britan- 
nic," which,  as  the  newspapers  say,  lives  between 
Peshawur  and  Cape  Comorin.  Were  the  Day 
of  Doom  to  dawn  to-morrow,  you  would  find  the 
Supreme  Government  "  taking  measures  to  allay 
popular  excitement "  and  putting  guards  upon  the 
graveyards  that  the  Dead  might  troop  forth  orderly. 
The  youngest  Civilian  would  arrest  Gabriel  on  his 
own  responsibility  if  the  Archangel  could  not  pro- 
duce a  Deputy  Commissioner's  permission  to 
"  make  music  or  other  noises  "  as  the  license  says. 

Whence  it  is  easy  to  see  that  mere  men  of  the 
flesh  who  would  create  a  tumult  must  fare  badly 
at  the  hands  of  the  Supreme  Government.  And 
they  do.    There  is  no  outward  sign  of  excitement; 

306 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 


there  is  no  confusion;  there  is  no  knowledge. 
When  due  and  sufficient  reasons  have  been  given, 
weighed  and  approved,  the  machinery  moves  for- 
ward, and  the  dreamer  of  dreams  and  the  seer  of 
visions  is  gone  from  his  friends  and  following.  He 
enjoys  the  hospitality  of  Government;  there  is  no 
restriction  upon  his  movements  within  certain  lim- 
its ;  but  he  must  not  confer  any  more  with  his  bro- 
ther dreamers.  Once  in  every  six  months  the  Su- 
preme Government  assures  itself  that  he  is  well 
and  takes  formal  acknowledgment  of  his  exis- 
tence. No  one  protests  against  his  detention,  be- 
cause the  few  people  who  know  about  it  are  in 
deadly  fear  of  seeming  to  know  him ;  and  never  a 
single  newspaper  "  takes  up  his  case  "  or  organises 
demonstrations  on  his  behalf,  because  the  news- 
papers of  India  have  got  behind  that  lying  proverb 
which  says  the  Pen  is  mightier  than  the  Sword, 
and  can  walk  delicately. 

So  now  you  know  as  much  as  you  ought  about 
Wali  Dad,  the  educational  mixture,  and  the  Su- 
preme Government. 

Lalun  has  not  yet  been  described.  She  would 
need,  so  Wali  Dad  says,  a  thousand  pens  of  gold 
and  ink  scented  with  musk.  She  has  been  vari- 
ously compared  to  the  Moon,  the  Dil  Sagar  Lake, 
a  spotted  quail,  a  gazelle,  the  Sun  on  the  Desert 
of  Kutch,  the  Dawn,  the  Stars,  and  the  young 
bamboo.    These  comparisons  imply  that  she  is 

307 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


beautiful  exceedingly  according  to  the  native  stan* 
dards,  which  are  practically  the  same  as  those  of 
the  West.  Her  eyes  are  black  and  her  hair  is 
black,  and  her  eyebrows  are  black  as  leeches ;  her 
mouth  is  tiny  and  says  witty  things ;  her  hands  are 
tiny  and  have  saved  much  money;  her  feet  are 
tiny  and  have  trodden  on  the  naked  hearts  of  many 
men.  But,  as  Wali  Dad  sings :  "  Lalun  is  Lalun, 
and  when  you  have  said  that,  you  have  only  come 
to  the  Beginnings  of  Knowledge." 

The  little  house  on  the  City  wall  was  just  big 
enough  to  hold  Lalun,  and  her  maid,  and  a  pussy- 
cat with  a  silver  collar.  A  big  pink  and  blue 
cut-glass  chandelier  hung  from  the  ceiling  of  the 
reception  room.  A  petty  Nawab  had  given  La- 
lun the  horror,  and  she  kept  it  for  politeness'  sake. 
The  floor  of  the  room  was  of  polished  chunam, 
white  as  curds.  A  latticed  window  of  carved 
wood  was  set  in  one  wall ;  there  was  a  profusion 
of  squabby  plufFy  cushions  and  fat  carpets  every- 
where, and  Lalun's  silver  huqa^  studded  with  tur- 
quoises, had  a  special  little  carpet  all  to  its  shining 
self  Wali  Dad  was  nearly  as  permanent  a  fixture 
as  the  chandelier.  As  I  have  said,  he  lay  in  the 
window-seat  and  meditated  on  Life  and  Death 
and  Lalun — specially  Lalun.  The  feet  of  the 
young  men  of  the  City  tended  to  her  doorways 
and  then — retired,  for  Lalun  was  a  particular 
maiden,  slow  of  speech,  reserved  of  mind,  and  not 

308 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 


in  the  least  inclined  to  orgies  which  were  nearly 
certain  to  end  in  strife.  "  If  I  am  of  no  value,  I 
am  unworthy  of  this  honour,"  said  Lalun.  "  If 
I  am  of  value,  they  are  unworthy  of  Me."  And 
that  was  a  crooked  sentence. 

In  the  long  hot  nights  of  latter  April  and  May 
all  the  City  seemed  to  assemble  in  Lalun's  little 
white  room  to  smoke  and  to  talk.  Shiahs  of  the 
grimmest  and  most  uncompromising  persuasion; 
Sufis  who  had  lost  all  belief  in  the  Prophet  and 
retained  but  little  in  God;  wandering  Hindu 
priests  passing  southward  on  their  way  to  the 
Central  India  fairs  and  other  affairs;  Pundits  in 
black  gowns,  with  spectacles  on  their  noses  and 
undigested  wisdom  in  their  insides ;  bearded  head- 
men of  the  wards;  Sikhs  with  all  the  details  of 
the  latest  ecclesiastical  scandal  in  the  Golden 
Temple ;  red-eyed  priests  from  beyond  the  Border, 
looking  like  trapped  wolves  and  talking  like  ra- 
vens ;  M.  A.'s  of  the  University,  very  superior  and 
very  voluble  —  all  these  people  and  more  also 
you  might  find  in  the  white  room.  Wali  Dad 
lay  in  the  window-seat  and  listened  to  the  talk. 

"  It  is  Lalun's  salon^''  said  Wali  Dad  to  me, 
"and  it  is  electic  —  is  not  that  the  word?  Out- 
side of  a  Freemason's  Lodge  I  have  never  seen 
such  gatherings,  ^here  I  dined  once  with  a  Jew 
—  a  Yahoudi!"  He  spat  into  the  City  Ditch 
with  apologies  for  allowing  national  feelings  to 

309 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


overcome  him.  "  Though  I  have  lost  every  be- 
lief in  the  world,"  said  he,  "  and  try  to  be  proud 
of  my  losing,  I  cannot  help  hating  a  Jew.  Lalun 
admits  no  Jews  here." 

"  But  what  in  the  world  do  all  these  men  do  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"The  curse  of  our  country,'*  said  Wali  Dad. 
"  They  talk.  It  is  like  the  Athenians  —  always 
hearing  and  telling  some  new  thing.  Ask  the 
Pearl  and  she  will  show  you  how  much  she 
knows  of  the  news  of  the  City  and  the  Province. 
Lalun  knows  everything." 

"Lalun,"  I  said  at  random  —  she  was  talking 
to  a  gentleman  of  the  Kurd  persuasion  who  haa 
come  in  from  God-knows-where  —  "when  does 
the  175th  Regiment  go  to  Agra?" 

"It  does  not  go  at  all,"  said  Lalun,  without 
turning  her  head.  "They  have  ordered  the  118th 
to  go  in  its  stead.  That  Regiment  goes  to  Luck- 
now  in  three  months,  unless  they  give  a  fresh 
order." 

"  That  is  so,"  said  Wali  Dad  without  a  shade 
of  doubt.  "  Can  you,  with  your  telegrams  and 
your  newspapers,  do  better  ?  Always  hearing  and 
telling  some  new  thing,"  he  went  on.  "  My  friend, 
has  your  God  ever  smitten  a  European  nation 
for  gossiping  in  the  bazars?  India  has  gossiped 
for  centuries — always  standing  in  the  bazars  until 
the  soldiers  go  by.    Therefore  —  you  are  here  to- 

310 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 


day  instead  of  starving  in  your  own  country,  and 
I  am  not  a  Muhammadan  —  I  am  a  Product  —  a 
Demnition  Product.  That  also  I  owe  to  you  and 
yours :  that  I  cannot  make  an  end  to  my  sentence 
without  quoting  from  your  authors."  He  pulled 
at  the  huqa  and  mourned,  half  feelingly,  half  in 
earnest,  for  the  shattered  hopes  of  his  youth.  Wali 
Dad  was  always  mourning  over  something  or  other 
—  the  country  of  which  he  despaired,  or  the  creed 
in  which  he  had  lost  faith,  or  the  life  of  the  Eng- 
lish which  he  could  by  no  means  understand. 

Lalun  never  mourned.  She  played  little  songs 
on  the  sitar^  and  to  hear  her  sing,  "O  Peacock,  cry 
again,"  was  always  a  fresh  pleasure.  She  knew  all 
the  songs  that  have  ever  been  sung,  from  the  war- 
songs  of  the  South  that  make  the  old  men  angry 
with  the  young  men  and  the  young  men  angry 
with  the  State,  to  the  love-songs  of  the  North  where 
the  swords  whinny-whicker  like  angry  kites  in  the 
pauses  between  the  kisses,  and  the  Passes  fill  with 
armed  men,  and  the  Lover  is  torn  from  his  Beloved 
and  cries,  AU  Ai^  Ail  evermore.  She  knew  how 
to  make  up  tobacco  for  the  huq^a  so  that  it  smelt 
like  the  Gates  of  Paradise  and  wafted  you  gently 
through  them.  She  could  embroider  strange  things 
in  gold  and  silver,  and  dance  softly  with  the  moon- 
light when  it  came  in  at  the  window.  Also  she 
knew  the  hearts  of  men,  and  the  heart  of  the  City, 
and  whose  wives  were  faithful  and  whose  untrue, 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


and  more  of  the  secrets  of  the  Government  Offices 
than  are  good  to  be  set  down  in  this  place.  Nasi- 
ban,  her  maid,  said  that  her  jewelry  was  worth  ten 
thousand  pounds,  and  that,  some  night,  a  thief 
would  enter  and  murder  her  for  its  possession; 
but  Lalun  said  that  all  the  City  would  tear  that 
thief  limb  from  limb,  and  that  he,  whoever  he 
was,  knew  it. 

So  she  took  her  sitar  and  sat  in  the  window- 
seat  and  sang  a  song  of  old  days  that  had  been 
sung  by  a  girl  of  her  profession  in  an  armed  camp 
on  the  eve  of  a  great  battle  —  the  day  before  the 
Fords  of  the  Jumna  ran  red  and  Sivaji  fled  fifty 
miles  to  Delhi  with  a  Toorkh  stallion  at  his  horse's 
tail  and  another  Lalun  on  his  saddle-bow.  It  was 
what  men  call  a  Mahratta  laonee^  and  it  said : — 

Their  warrior  forces  Chimnajee 

Before  the  Peishwa  led. 
The  Children  of  the  Sun  and  Fire 

Behind  him  turned  and  fled. 

And  the  chorus  said :  — 

With  them  there  fought  who  rides  so  free 

With  sword  and  turban  red. 
The  warrior-youth  who  earns  his  fee 

At  peril  of  his  head. 

"  At  peril  of  his  head,"  said  Wali  Dad  in  Eng- 
lish to  me.    "  Thanks  to  your  Government,  all 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 


our  heads  are  protected,  and  with  the  educational 
facilities  at  my  command" — his  eyes  twinkled 
wickedly — "I  might  be  a  distinguished  member 
of  the  local  administration.  Perhaps,  in  time,  I 
might  even  be  a  member  of  a  Legislative  Council." 

"Don't  speak  English,"  said  Lalun,  bending 
over  her  sitar  afresh.  The  chorus  went  out  from 
the  City  wall  to  the  blackened  wall  of  Fort  Amara 
which  dominates  the  City.  No  man  knows  the 
precise  extent  of  Fort  Amara.  Three  kings  built 
it  hundreds  of  years  ago,  and  they  say  that  there 
are  miles  of  underground  rooms  beneath  its  walls. 
It  is  peopled  with  many  ghosts,  a  detachment  of 
Garrison  Artillery  and  a  Company  of  Infantry.  In 
its  prime  it  held  ten  thousand  men  and  filled  its 
ditches  with  corpses. 

"At  peril  of  his  head,"  sang  Lalun  again  and 
again. 

A  head  moved  on  one  of  the  Ramparts  —  the 
gray  head  of  an  old  man  —  and  a  voice,  rough  as 
shark-skin  on  a  sword-hilt,  sent  back  the  last  line 
of  the  chorus  and  broke  into  a  song  that  I  could 
not  understand,  though  Lalun  and  Wali  Dad  lis- 
tened intently. 

"What  is  it  ?  "  I  asked.    "  Who  is  it  ?  " 

"  A  consistent  man,"  said  Wali  Dad.  "  He 
fought  you  in  '46,  when  he  was  a  warrior-youth ; 
refought  you  in  '57,  and  he  tried  to  fight  you  in 
'71,  but  you  had  learned  the  trick  of  blowing  men 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


from  guns  too  well.  Now  he  is  old ;  but  he  would 
still  fight  if  he  could." 

"  Is  he  a  Wahabi,  then  ?  Why  should  he  an- 
swer to  a  Mahratta  laonee  if  he  be  Wahabi  —  or 
Sikh  %  "  said  I. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  Wali  Dad.  "  He  has 
lost,  perhaps,  his  religion.  Perhaps  he  wishes  to 
be  a  King.  Perhaps  he  is  a  King.  I  do  not 
know  his  name." 

"That  is  a  lie,  Wali  Dad.  If  you  know  his 
career  you  must  know  his  name." 

"  That  is  quite  true.  I  belong  to  a  nation  of 
liars.  I  would  rather  not  tell  you  his  name. 
Think  for  yourself" 

Lalun  finished  her  song,  pointed  to  the  Fort, 
and  said  simply :  "  Khem  Singh." 

"  Hm,"  said  Wali  Dad.  "  If  the  Pearl  chooses 
to  tell  you  the  Pearl  is  a  fool." 

I  translated  to  Lalun,  who  laughed.  "  I  choose 
to  tell  what  I  choose  to  tell.  They  kept  Khem 
Singh  in  Burma,"  said  she.  "They  kept  him 
there  for  many  years  until  his  mind  was  changed 
in  him.  So  great  was  the  kindness  of  the  Gov- 
ernment. Finding  this,  they  sent  him  back  to  his 
own  country  that  he  might  look  upon  it  before  he 
died.  He  is  an  old  man,  but  when  he  looks  upon 
this  his  country  his  memory  will  come.  More- 
over, there  be  many  who  remember  him." 

"  He  is  an  Interesting  Survival,"  said  Wali  Dad, 

3H 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 


pulling  at  the  huqa.  "  He  returns  to  a  country 
now  full  of  educational  and  political  reform,  but, 
as  the  Pearl  says,  there  are  many  who  remember 
him.  He  was  once  a  great  man.  There  will  never 
be  any  more  great  men  in  India.  They  will  all, 
when  they  are  boys,  go  whoring  after  strange  gods, 
and  they  will  become  citizens  —  'fellow-citizens' 
— '  illustrious  fellow-citizens.'  What  is  it  that  the 
native  papers  call  them  ?  " 

Wali  Dad  seemed  to  be  in  a  very  bad  temper. 
Lalun  looked  out  of  the  window  and  smiled  into 
the  dust-haze.  I  went  away  thinking  about  Khem 
Singh,  who  had  once  made  history  with  a  thou- 
sand followers,  and  would  have  been  a  princeling 
but  for  the  power  of  the  Supreme  Government 
aforesaid. 

The  Senior  Captain  Commanding  Fort  Amara 
was  away  on  leave,  but  the  Subaltern,  his  Deputy, 
had  drifted  down  to  the  Club,  where  I  found  him 
and  enquired  of  him  whether  it  was  really  true  that 
a  political  prisoner  had  been  added  to  the  attrac- 
tions of  the  Fort.  The  Subaltern  explained  at 
great  length,  for  this  was  the  first  time  that  he  had 
held  Command  of  the  Fort,  and  his  glory  lay  heavy 
upon  him. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  a  man  was  sent  in  to  me  about 
a  week  ago  from  down  the  line  —  a  thorough 
gentleman,  whoever  he  is.  Of  course  I  did  all  I 
could  for  him.    He  had  his  two  servants  and  some 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 

silver  cooking-pots,  and  he  looked  for  all  the  world 
like  a  native  officer.  I  called  him  Subadar  Sahib ; 
just  as  well  to  be  on  the  safe  side,  y'know.. 
*  Look  here,  Subadar  Sahib,'  I  said,  '  you're  handed 
over  to  my  authority,  and  I'm  supposed  to  guard 
you.  Now  I  don't  want  to  make  your  life  hard, 
but  you  must  make  things  easy  for  me.  All  the 
Fort  is  at  your  disposal,  from  the  flag-staff  to  the 
dry  ditch,  and  I  shall  be  happy  to  entertain  you 
in  any  way  I  can,  but  you  mustn't  take  advantage 
of  it.  Give  me  your  word  that  you  won't  try  to 
escape,  Subadar  Sahib,  and  I'll  give  you  my  word 
that  you  shall  have  no  heavy  guard  put  over  you.' 
I  thought  the  best  way  of  getting  at  him  was  by 
going  at  him  straight,  y'know,  and  it  was,  by 
Jove !  The  old  man  gave  me  his  word,  and 
moved  about  the  Fort  as  contented  as  a  sick  crow. 
He's  a  rummy  chap  —  always  asking  to  be  told 
where  he  is  and  what  the  buildings  about  him  are. 
I  had  to  sign  a  slip  of  blue  paper  when  he  turned 
up,  acknowledging  receipt  of  his  body  and  all 
that,  and  I'm  responsible,  y'know,  that  he  doesn't 
get  away.  Queer  thing,  though,  looking  after  a 
Johnnie  old  enough  to  be  your  grandfather,  isn't 
it Come  to  the  Fort  one  of  these  days  and  see 
him  ?  " 

For  reasons  which  will  appear,  I  never  went  to 
the  Fort  while  Khem  Singh  was  then  within  its 
walls.    I  knew  him  only  as  a  gray  head  seen  from 

316 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 


Lalun's  window  —  a  gray  head  and  a  harsh  voice. 
But  natives  told  me  that,  day  by  day,  as  he  looked 
upon  the  fair  lands  round  Amara,  his  memory 
came  back  to  him  and,  with  it,  the  old  hatred 
against  the  Government  that  had  been  nearly 
effaced  in  far-off  Burma.  So  he  raged  up  and 
down  the  West  face  of  the  Fort  from  morning  till 
noon  and  from  evening  till  the  night,  devising  vain 
things  in  his  heart,  and  croaking  war-songs  when 
Lalun  sang  on  the  City  wall.  As  he  grew  more 
acquainted  with  the  Subaltern  he  unburdened  his 
old  heart  of  some  of  the  passions  that  had  withered 
it.  "  Sahib,"  he  used  to  say,  tapping  his  stick 
against  the  parapet,  "  when  I  was  a  young  man  I 
was  one  of  twenty  thousand  horsemen  who  came 
out  of  the  City  and  rode  round  the  plain  here. 
Sahib,  I  was  the  leader  of  a  hundred,  then  of  a 
thousand,  then  of  five  thousand,  and  now  ! "  —  he 
pointed  to  his  two  servants.  "  But  from  the  be- 
ginning to  to-day  I  would  cut  the  throats  of  all  the 
Sahibs  in  the  land  if  I  could.  Hold  me  fast.  Sahib, 
lest  I  get  away  and  return  to  those  who  would 
follow  me.  I  forgot  them  when  I  was  in  Burma, 
but  now  that  I  am  in  my  own  country  again,  I 
remember  everything." 

"Do  you  remember  that  you  have  given  me 
your  Honour  not  to  make  your  tendance  a  hard 
matter   "  said  the  Subaltern. 

"  Yes.  to  you,  only  to  you.  Sahib,"  said  Khem 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


Singh.  "  To  you  because  you  are  of  a  pleasant 
countenance.  If  my  turn  comes  again,  Sahib,  I 
will  not  hang  you  nor  cut  your  throat." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  Subaltern  gravely,  as  he 
looked  along  the  line  of  guns  that  could  pound 
the  City  to  powder  in  half  an  hour.  "  Let  us  go 
into  our  own  quarters,  Khem  Singh.  Come  and 
talk  with  me  after  dinner." 

Khem  Singh  would  sit  on  his  own  cushion  at 
the  Subaltern's  feet,  drinking  heavy,  scented  anise- 
seed  brandy  in  great  gulps,  and  telling  strange 
stories  of  Fort  Amara,  which  had  been  a  palace  in 
the  old  days,  of  Begums  and  Ranees  tortured  to 
death  —  aye,  in  the  very  vaulted  chamber  that 
now  served  as  a  Mess-room ;  would  tell  stories  of 
Sobraon  that  made  the  Subaltern's  cheeks  flush 
and  tingle  with  pride  of  race,  and  of  the  Kuka 
rising  from  which  so  much  was  expected  and  the 
foreknowledge  of  which  was  shared  by  a  hundred 
thousand  souls.  But  he  never  told  tales  of  '57 
because,  as  he  said,  he  was  the  Subaltern's  guest, 
and  '57  is  a  year  that  no  man.  Black  or  White,  ^ 
cares  to  speak  of  Once  only,  when  the  anise- 
seed  brandy  had  slightly  affected  his  head,  he  said : 
"  Sahib,  speaking  now  of  a  matter  which  lay  be- 
tween Sobraon  and  the  affair  of  the  Kukas,  it  was 
ever  a  wonder  to  us  that  you  stayed  your  hand  at 
all,  and  that,  having  stayed  it,  you  did  not  make 
the  land  one  prison.    Now  I  hear  from  without 

318 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 


that  you  do  great  honour  to  all  men  of  our  coun- 
try and  by  your  own  hands  are  destroying  the 
Terror  of  your  Name  which  is  your  strong  rock 
and  defence.  This  is  a  foolish  thing.  Will  oil 
and  water  mix  *?    Now  in  '57  " 

"  I  was  not  born  then,  Subadar  Sahib,"  said  the 
Subaltern,  and  Khem  Singh  reeled  to  his  quarters. 

The  Subaltern  would  tell  me  of  these  conversa- 
tions at  the  Club,  and  my  desire  to  see  Khem 
Singh  increased.  But  Wali  Dad,  sitting  in  the 
window-seat  of  the  house  on  the  City  wall,  said 
that  it  would  be  a  cruel  thing  to  do,  and  Lalun 
pretended  that  I  preferred  the  society  of  a  grizzled 
old  Sikh  to  hers. 

"  Here  is  tobacco,  here  is  talk,  here  are  many 
friends  and  all  the  news  of  the  City,  and,  above  all, 
here  is  myself  I  will  tell  you  stories  and  sing 
you  songs,  and  Wali  Dad  will  talk  his  English 
nonsense  in  your  ears.  Is  that  worse  than  watch- 
ing the  caged  animal  yonder'?  Go  to-morrow, 
then,  if  you  must,  but  to-day  such  and  such  an 
one  will  be  here,  and  he  will  speak  of  wonderful 
things." 

It  happened  that  To-morrow  never  came,  and 
the  warm  heat  of  the  latter  Rains  gave  place  to 
the  chill  of  early  October  almost  before  I  was 
aware  of  the  flight  of  the  year.  The  Captain  com- 
manding the  Fort  returned  from  leave  and  took 
over  charge  of  Khem  Singh  according  to  the  laws 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


of  seniority.  The  Captain  was  not  a  nice  man. 
He  called  all  natives  "niggers,"  which,  besides 
being  extreme  bad  form,  shows  gross  ignorance. 

"  What's  the  use  of  telling  off  two  Tommies  to 
watch  that  old  nigger "  said  he. 

"  I  fancy  it  soothes  his  vanity,"  said  the  Subal- 
tern. "  The  men  are  ordered  to  keep  well  out  of 
his  way,  but  he  takes  them  as  a  tribute  to  his  im- 
portance, poor  old  wretch." 

"  I  won't  have  Line  men  taken  off  regular  guards 
in  this  way.    Put  on  a  couple  of  Native  Infantry." 

"  Sikhs  ? "  said  the  Subaltern,  lifting  his  eye- 
brows. 

"  Sikhs,  Pathans,  Dogras  —  they're  all  alike, 
these  black  vermin,"  and  the  Captain  talked  to 
Khem  Singh  in  a  manner  which  hurt  that  old  gen- 
tleman's feelings.  Fifteen  years  before,  when  he 
had  been  caught  for  the  second  time,  every  one 
looked  upon  him  as  a  sort  of  tiger.  He  liked  be- 
ing regarded  in  this  light.  But  he  forgot  that  the 
world  goes  forward  in  fifteen  years,  and  many  Sub- 
alterns are  promoted  to  Captaincies. 

"  The  Captain-pig  is  in  charge  of  the  Fort  ^  " 
said  Khem  Singh  to  his  native  guard  every  morn- 
ing. And  the  native  guard  said  :  "  Yes,  Subadar 
Sahib,"  in  deference  to  his  age  and  his  air  of  dis- 
tinction ;  but  they  did  not  know  who  he  was. 

In  those  days  the  gathering  in  Lalun's  little  white 
room  was  always  large  and  talked  more  than  before. 

320 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 


"  The  Greeks,"  said  Wali  Dad,  who  had  been 
borrowing  my  books,  "  the  inhabitants  of  the  city 
of  Athens,  where  they  were  always  hearing  and 
telling  some  new  thing,  rigorously  secluded  their 
women  —  who  were  fools.  Hence  the  glorious 
institution  of  the  heterodox  women — is  it  not^ — • 
who  were  amusing  and  not  fools.  All  the  Greek 
philosophers  delighted  in  their  company.  Tell 
me,  my  friend,  how  it  goes  now  in  Greece  and 
the  other  places  upon  the  Continent  of  Europe. 
Are  your  women-folk  also  fools  ?  " 

"  Wali  Dad,"  I  said,  "  you  never  speak  to  us 
about  your  women-folk,  and  we  never  speak  about 
ours  to  you.    That  is  the  bar  between  us." 

"Yes,"  said  Wali  Dad,  "it  is  curious  to  think 
that  our  common  meeting-place  should  be  here, 
in  the  house  of  a  common  —  how  do  you  call 
her?''  He  pointed  with  the  pipe-mouth  to 
Lalun. 

"  Lalun  is  nothing  but  Lalun,"  I  said,  and  that 
was  perfectly  true.  "  But  if  you  took  your  place 
in  the  world,  Wali  Dad,  and  gave  up  dreaming 
dreams  " 

"  I  might  wear  an  English  coat  and  trouser. 
I  might  be  a  leading  Muhammadan  pleader. 
I  might  be  received  even  at  the  Commissioner's 
tennis-parties,  where  the  English  stand  on  one  side 
and  the  natives  on  the  other,  in  order  to  promote 
social  intercourse  throughout  the  Empire.  Heart's 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


Heart,"  said  he  to  Lalun  quickly,  "  the  Sahib  says 
that  I  ought  to  quit  you." 

"  The  Sahib  is  always  talking  stupid  talk,"  re- 
turned Lalun  with  a  laugh.  "  In  this  house  I 
am  a  Queen  and  thou  art  a  King.  The  Sahib  " 
— she  put  her  arms  above  her  head  and  thought 
for  a  moment — "the  Sahib  shall  be  our  Vizier  — 
thine  and  mine,  Wali  Dad  —  because  he  has  said 
that  thou  shouldst  leave  me." 

Wali  Dad  laughed  immoderately,  and  I  laughed 
too.  "  Be  it  so,"  said  he.  "  My  friend,  are  you 
willing  to  take  this  lucrative  Government  ap- 
pointment     Lalun,  what  shall  his  pay  be  ^  " 

But  Lalun  began  to  sing,  and  for  the  rest  of 
the  time  there  was  no  hope  of  getting  a  sensible 
answer  from  her  or  Wali  Dad.  When  the  one 
stopped,  the  other  began  to  quote  Persian  poetry 
with  a  triple  pun  in  every  other  line.  Some  of 
it  was  not  strictly  proper,  but  it  was  all  very  funny, 
and  it  only  came  to  an  end  when  a  fat  person  in 
black,  with  gold  pince-nez^  sent  up  his  name  to 
Lalun,  and  Wali  Dad  dragged  me  into  the  twink- 
ling night  to  walk  in  a  big  rose-garden  and  talk 
heresies  about  Religion  and  Governments  and  a 
man's  career  in  life. 

The  Mohurrum,  the  great  mourning-festival  of 
the  Muhammadans,  was  close  at  hand,  and  the 
things  that  Wali  Dad  said  about  religious  fanati- 
cism would  have  secured  his  expulsion  from  the 

322 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 

loosest-thinking  Muslim  sect.  There  were  the 
rose-bushes  round  us,  the  stars  above  us,  and 
from  every  quarter  of  the  City  came  the  boom  of 
the  big  Mohurrum  drums.  You  must  know  that 
the  City  is  divided  in  fairly  equal  proportions  be- 
tween the  Hindus  and  the  Musalmans,  and  where 
both  creeds  belong  to  the  fighting  races,  a  big  re- 
ligious festival  gives  ample  chance  for  trouble. 
When  they  can — that  is  to  say  when  the  authori- 
ties are  weak  enough  to  allow  it — the  Hindus  do 
their  best  to  arrange  some  minor  feast-day  of  their 
own  in  time  to  clash  with  the  period  of  general 
mourning  for  the  martyrs  Hasan  and  Hussain,  the 
heroes  of  the  Mohurrum.  Gilt  and  painted  paper 
presentations  of  their  tombs  are  borne  with  shout- 
ing and  wailing,  music,  torches,  and  yells,  through 
the  principal  thoroughfares  of  the  City,  which 
fakements  are  called  tazias.  Their  passage  is  rig- 
orously laid  down  beforehand  by  the  Police,  and 
detachments  of  Police  accompany  each  tazia^  lest 
the  Hindus  should  throw  bricks  at  it  and  the 
peace  of  the  Queen  and  the  heads  of  her  loyal 
subjects  should  thereby  be  broken.  Mohurrum 
time  in  a  "  fighting "  town  means  anxiety  to  all 
the  officials,  because,  if  a  riot  breaks  out,  the  offi- 
cials and  not  the  rioters  are  held  responsible.  The 
former  must  foresee  everything,  and  while  not 
making  their  precautions  ridiculously  elaborate, 
must  see  that  they  are  at  least  adequate. 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"  Listen  to  the  drums ! "  said  Wali  Dad. 
"That  is  the  heart  of  the  people  —  empty  and 
making  much  noise.  How,  think  you,  will  the 
Mohurrum  go  this  year.  I  think  that  there  will 
be  trouble." 

He  turned  down  a  side-street  and  left  me  alone 
with  the  stars  and  a  sleepy  Police  patrol.  Then  I 
went  to  bed  and  dreamed  that  Wali  Dad  had 
sacked  the  City  and  I  was  made  Vizier,  with 
Lalun's  silver  buqa  for  mark  of  office. 

All  day  the  Mohurrum  drums  beat  in  the  City, 
and  all  day  deputations  of  tearful  Hindu  gentle- 
men besieged  the  Deputy  Commissioner  with  as- 
surances that  they  would  be  murdered  ere  next 
dawning  by  the  Muhammadans.  "  Which,"  said 
the  Deputy  Commissioner  in  confidence  to  the 
Head  of  Police,  "is  a  pretty  fair  indication  that 
the  Hindus  are  going  to  make  'emselves  unpleas- 
ant. I  think  we  can  arrange  a  little  surprise  for 
them.  I  have  given  the  heads  of  both  Creeds  fair 
warning.  If  they  choose  to  disregard  it,  so  much 
the  worse  for  them." 

There  was  a  large  gathering  in  Lalun's  house 
that  night,  but  of  men  that  I  had  never  seen  be- 
fore, if  I  except  the  fat  gentleman  in  black  with 
the  gold  pince-nez.  Wali  Dad  lay  in  the  window- 
seat,  more  bitterly  scornful  of  his  Faith  and  its 
manifestations  than  I  had  ever  known  him. 
Lalun's  maid  was  very  busy  cutting  up  and  mix- 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 


ing  tobacco  for  the  guests.  We  could  hear  the 
thunder  of  the  drums  as  the  processions  accom- 
panying each  tazia  marched  to  the  central  gather- 
ing-place in  the  plain  outside  the  City,  preparatory 
to  their  triumphant  re-entry  and  circuit  within  the 
walls.  All  the  streets  seemed  ablaze  with  torches, 
and  only  Fort  Amara  was  black  and  silent. 

When  the  noise  of  the  drums  ceased,  no  one  in 
the  white  room  spoke  for  a  time.  "  The  first  tazia 
has  moved  off,"  said  Wali  Dad,  looking  to  the 
plain. 

"  That  is  very  early,"  said  the  man  with  the 

pince-nez, 

"  It  is  only  half-past  eight."  The  company  rose 
and  departed. 

"  Some  of  them  were  men  from  Ladakh,"  said 
Lalun,  when  the  last  had  gone.  "  They  brought 
me  brick-tea  such  as  the  Russians  sell,  and  a  tea- 
urn  from  Peshawur.  Show  me,  now,  how  the 
English  Memsahihs  make  tea." 

The  brick-tea  was  abominable.  When  it  was 
finished  Wali  Dad  suggested  going  into  the  streets. 
"  I  am  nearly  sure  that  there  will  be  trouble  to- 
night," he  said.  "All  the  City  thinks  so,  and 
Fo%  Populi  is  Fox  Dei,  as  the  Babus  say.  Now  I 
tell  you  that  at  the  corner  of  the  Padshahi  Gate 
you  will  find  my  horse  all  this  night  if  you  want 
to  go  about  and  to  see  things.  It  is  a  most  dis- 
graceful exhibition.    Where  is  the  pleasure  of 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


saying  '  Ta  Hasan,  Ta  YLussain^  twenty  thousand 
times  in  a  night  ?  " 

All  the  processions  —  there  were  two  and  twenty 
of  them  —  were  now  well  within  the  City  walls. 
The  drums  were  beating  afresh,  the  crowd  were 
howling  "  Ta  Hasan!  Ta  Hussatn!'*  and  beating 
their  breasts,  the  brass  bands  were  playing  their 
loudest,  and  at  every  corner  where  space  allowed 
Muhammadan  preachers  were  telling  the  lament- 
able story  of  the  death  of  the  Martyrs.  It  was 
impossible  to  move  except  with  the  crowd,  for 
the  streets  were  not  more  than  twenty  feet  wide. 
In  the  Hindu  quarters  the  shutters  of  all  the  shops 
were  up  and  cross-barred.  As  the  first  taz2a,  a 
gorgeous  erection  ten  feet  high,  was  borne  aloft 
on  the  shoulders  of  a  score  of  stout  men  into  the 
semi-darkness  of  the  Gully  of  the  Horsemen,  a 
brickbat  crashed  through  its  talc  and  tinsel  sides. 

"  Into  thy  hands,  O  Lord ! "  murmured  Wali 
Dad  profanely,  as  a  yell  went  up  from  behind,  and 
a  native  officer  of  Police  jammed  his  horse  through 
the  crowd.  Another  brickbat  followed,  and  the 
tazia  staggered  and  swayed  where  it  had  stopped. 

"  Go  on !  In  the  name  of  the  Sirkar,  go  for- 
ward ! "  shouted  the  Policeman ;  but  there  was  an 
ugly  cracking  and  splintering  of  shutters,  and  the 
crowd  halted,  with  oaths  and  growlings,  before  the 
house  whence  the  brickbat  had  been  thrown. 

Then,  without  any  warning,  broke  the  storm  — 
326 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 


not  only  in  the  Gully  of  the  Horsemen,  but  in 
half  a  dozen  other  places.  The  tazias  rocked  like 
ships  at  sea,  the  long  pole-torches  dipped  and  rose 
round  them,  while  the  men  shouted :  "  The  Hin- 
dus are  dishonouring  the  tazias  !  Strike  !  Strike  ! 
Into  their  temples  for  the  Faith ! "  The  six  or 
eight  Policemen  with  each  tazta  drew  their  batons 
and  struck  as  long  as  they  could,  in  the  hope  of 
forcing  the  mob  forward,  but  they  were  overpow- 
ered, and  as  contingents  of  Hindus  poured  into  the 
streets  the  fight  became  general.  Half  a  mile  away, 
where  the  tazias  were  yet  untouched,  the  drums 
and  the  shrieks  of  "  Ta  Hasan  !  Ta  Hussain  !  "  con- 
tinued, but  not  for  long.  The  priests  at  the  corners 
of  the  streets  knocked  the  legs  from  the  bedsteads 
that  supported  their  pulpits  and  smote  for  the 
Faith,  while  stones  fell  from  the  silent  houses  upon 
friend  and  foe,  and  the  packed  streets  bellowed : 
"  Din  !  Din  I  Din  !  "  A  tazia  caught  fire,  and  was 
dropped  for  a  flaming  barrier  between  Hindu  and 
Musalman  at  the  corner  of  the  Gully.  Then  the 
crowd  surged  forward,  and  Wali  Dad  drew  me 
close  to  the  stone  pillar  of  a  well. 

"  It  was  intended  from  the  beginning ! "  he 
shouted  in  my  ear,  with  more  heat  than  blank  un- 
belief should  be  guilty  of  "  The  bricks  were  car- 
ried up  to  the  houses  beforehand.  These  swine 
of  Hindus !  We  shall  be  gutting  kine  in  their 
temples  to-night ! " 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


'iazia  after  tazia^  some  burning,  others  torn  to 
pieces,  hurried  past  us,  and  the  mob  with  them, 
howling,  shrieking,  and  striking  at  the  house  doors 
in  their  flight.  At  last  we  saw  the  reason  of  the 
rush.  Hugonin,  the  Assistant  District  Superin- 
tendent of  Police,  a  boy  of  twenty,  had  got  to- 
gether thirty  constables  and  was  forcing  the  crowd 
through  the  streets.  His  old  gray  Police-horse 
showed  no  sign  of  uneasiness  as  it  was  spurred 
breast-on  into  the  crowd,  and  the  long  dog-whip 
with  which  he  had  armed  himself  was  never  still. 

"  They  know  we  haven't  enough  Police  to  hold 
'em,"  he  cried  as  he  passed  me,  mopping  a  cut  on 
his  face.  "  They  know  we  haven't !  Aren't  any 
of  the  men  from  the  Club  coming  down  to  help  ? 
Get  on,  you  sons  of  burnt  fathers!"  The  dog- 
whip  cracked  across  the  writhing  backs,  and  the 
constables  smote  afresh  with  baton  and  gun-butt. 
With  these  passed  the  lights  and  the  shouting, 
and  Wali  Dad  began  to  swear  under  his  breath. 
From  P  ort  Amara  shot  up  a  single  rocket ;  then 
two  side  by  side.    It  was  the  signal  for  troops. 

Petitt,  the  Deputy  Commissioner,  covered  with 
dust  and  sweat,  but  calm  and  gently  smiling,  can- 
tered up  the  clean-swept  street  in  rear  of  the  main 
body  of  the  rioters.  "No  one  killed  yet,"  he 
shouted.  "  I'll  keep  'em  on  the  run  till  dawn ! 
Don't  let  'em  halt,  Hugonin!  Trot  'em  about 
till  the  troops  come." 

328 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 


The  science  of  the  defence  lay  solely  in  keeping 
the  mob  on  the  move.  If  they  had  breathing- 
space  they  would  halt  and  fire  a  house,  and  then 
the  work  of  restoring  order  would  be  more  diffi- 
cult, to  say  the  least  of  it.  Flames  have  the  same 
effect  on  a  crowd  as  blood  has  on  a  wild  beast. 

Word  had  reached  the  Club,  and  men  in  even- 
ing-dress were  beginning  to  show  themselves  and 
lend  a  hand  in  heading  off  and  breaking  up  the 
shouting  masses  with  stirrup-leathers,  whips,  or 
chance-found  staves.  They  were  not  very  often 
attacked,  for  the  rioters  had  sense  enough  to  know 
that  the  death  of  a  European  would  not  mean  one 
hanging,  but  many,  and  possibly  the  appearance  of 
the  thrice-dreaded  Artillery.  The  clamour  in  the 
City  redoubled.  The  Hindus  had  descended  into 
the  streets  in  real  earnest,  and  ere  long  the  mob 
returned.  It  was  a  strange  sight.  There  were  no 
tazias  —  only  their  riven  platforms  —  and  there 
were  no  Police.  Here  and  there  a  City  dignitary, 
Hindu  or  Muhammadan,  was  vainly  imploring 
his  co-religionists  to  keep  quiet  and  behave  them- 
selves—  advice  for  which  his  white  beard  was 
pulled.  Then  a  native  officer  of  Police,  unhorsed 
but  still  using  his  spurs  with  effect,  would  be  borne 
along,  warning  all  the  crowd  of  the  danger  of  in- 
sulting the  Government.  Everywhere  men  struck 
aimlessly  with  sticks,  grasping  each  other  by  the 
throat,  howling  and  foaming  with  rage,  or  beat 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


with  their  bare  hands  on  the  doors  of  the 
houses. 

"  It  is  a  lucky  thing  that  they  are  fighting  with 
natural  weapons,"  I  said  to  Wali  Dad,  "else  we 
should  have  half  the  City  killed." 

I  turned  as  I  spoke  and  looked  at  his  face.  His 
nostrils  were  distended,  his  eyes  were  fixed,  and 
he  was  smiting  himself  softly  on  the  breast.  The 
crowd  poured  by  with  renewed  riot  —  a  gang  of 
Musalmans  hard-pressed  by  some  hundred  Hindu 
fanatics.  Wali  Dad  left  my  side  with  an  oath,  and 
shouting :  "  Ta  Hasan  !  Ta  Hussain  I "  plunged 
into  the  thick  of  the  fight,  where  I  lost  sight  of 
him. 

I  fled  by  a  side  alley  to  the  Padshahi  Gate,  where 
I  found  WaH  Dad's  horse,  and  thence  rode  to  the 
Fort.  Once  outside  the  City  wall,  the  tumult 
sank  to  a  dull  roar,  very  impressive  under  the  stars 
and  reflecting  great  credit  on  the  fifty  thousand 
angry  able-bodied  men  who  were  making  it.  The 
troops  who,  at  the  Deputy  Commissioner's  instance, 
had  been  ordered  to  rendezvous  quietly  near  the 
Fort  showed  no  signs  of  being  impressed.  Two 
companies  of  Native  Infantry,  a  squadron  of  Na- 
tive Cavalry,  and  a  company  of  British  Infantry 
were  kicking  their  heels  in  the  shadow  of  the  East 
face,  waiting  for  orders  to  march  in.  I  am  sorry 
to  say  that  they  were  all  pleased,  unholily  pleased, 
at  the  chance  of  what  they  called  "a  little  fun." 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 


The  senior  officers,  to  be  sure,  grumbled  at  hav- 
ing been  kept  out  of  bed,  and  the  English  troops 
pretended  to  be  sulky,  but  there  was  joy  in  the 
hearts  of  all  the  subalterns,  and  whispers  ran  up 
and  down  the  line :  "  No  ball-cartridge  —  what  a 
beastly  shame  ! "  "  D'you  think  the  beggars  will 
really  stand  up  to  us  ^  "  "  'Hope  I  shall  meet  my 
money-lender  there.  I  owe  him  more  than  I  can 
afford."  "  Oh,  they  won't  let  us  even  unsheathe 
swords."  "  Hurrah !  Up  goes  the  fourth  rocket. 
Fall  in,  there ! " 

The  Garrison  Artillery,  who  to  the  last  cher- 
ished a  wild  hope  that  they  might  be  allowed  to 
bombard  the  City  at  a  hundred  yards'  range,  lined 
the  parapet  above  the  East  gateway  and  cheered 
themselves  hoarse  as  the  British  Infantry  doubled 
along  the  road  to  the  Main  Gate  of  the  City.  The 
Cavalry  cantered  on  to  the  Padshahi  Gate,  and  the 
Native  Infantry  marched  slowly  to  the  Gate  of 
the  Butchers.  The  surprise  was  intended  to  be  of  a 
distinctly  unpleasant  nature,  and  to  come  on  top 
of  the  defeat  of  the  Police  who  had  been  just  able 
to  keep  the  Muhammadans  from  firing  the  houses 
of  a  few  leading  Hindus.  The  bulk  of  the  riot 
lay  in  the  north  and  north-west  wards.  The  east 
and  south-east  were  by  this  time  dark  and  silent, 
and  I  rode  hastily  to  Lalun's  house,  for  I  wished  to 
tell  her  to  send  some  one  in  search  of  Wali  Dad. 
The  house  was  unlighted,  but  the  dooi  was  open. 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


and  I  climbed  upstairs  in  the  darkness.  One 
small  lamp  in  the  white  room  showed  Lalun  and 
her  maid  leaning  half  out  of  the  window,  breath- 
ing heavily  and  evidently  pulling  at  something 
that  refused  to  come. 

"  Thou  art  late  — very  late,"  gasped  Lalun  with- 
out turning  her  head.  "  Help  us  now,  O  Fool,  if 
thou  hast  not  spent  thy  strength  howling  among 
the  tazt'as.  Pull !  Nasiban  and  I  can  do  no  more. 
O  Sahib,  is  it  you  ?  The  Hindus  have  been  hunt- 
ing an  old  Muhammadan  round  the  Ditch  with 
clubs.  If  they  find  him  again  they  will  kill  him. 
Help  us  to  pull  him  up." 

I  put  my  hands  to  the  long  red  silk  waist-cloth 
that  was  hanging  out  of  the  window,  and  we  three 
pulled  and  pulled  with  all  the  strength  at  our  com- 
mand. There  was  something  very  heavy  at  the 
end,  and  it  swore  in  an  unknown  tongue  as  it  kicked 
against  the  City  wall. 

"Pull,  oh,  pull!"  said  Lalun  at  the  last.  A 
pair  of  brown  hands  grasped  the  window-sill  and 
a  venerable  Muhammadan  tumbled  upon  the  floor, 
very  much  out  of  breath.  His  jaws  were  tied  up, 
his  turban  had  fallen  over  one  eye,  and  he  was 
dusty  and  angry. 

Lalun  hid  her  face  in  her  hands  for  an  instant 
and  said  something  about  Wall  Dad  that  I  could 
not  catch. 

Then,  to  my  extreme  gratification,  she  threw  her 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 


arms  round  my  neck  and  murmured  pretty  things. 
I  was  in  no  haste  to  stop  her;  and  Nasiban,  being 
a  handmaiden  of  tact,  turned  to  the  big  jewel-chest 
that  stands  in  the  corner  of  the  white  room  and 
rummaged  among  the  contents.  The  Muhamma- 
dan  sat  on  the  floor  and  glared. 

"  One  service  more,  Sahib,  since  thou  hast  come 
so  opportunely,"  said  Lalun.  "  Wilt  thou  " —  it 
is  very  nice  to  be  thou-ed  by  Lalun  —  "  take  this 
old  man  across  the  City  —  the  troops  are  every- 
where, and  they  might  hurt  him,  for  he  is  old  —  to 
the  Kumharsen  Gate  ?  There  I  think  he  may  find 
a  carriage  to  take  him  to  his  house.  He  is  a  friend 
of  mine,  and  thou  art  — more  than  a  friend  — 
therefore  I  ask  this." 

Nasiban  bent  over  the  old  man,  tucked  some- 
thing into  his  belt,  and  I  raised  him  up  and  led 
him  into  the  streets.  In  crossing  from  the  east  to 
the  west  of  the  City  there  was  no  chance  of  avoid- 
ing the  troops  and  the  crowd.  Long  before  I 
reached  the  Gully  of  the  Horsemen  I  heard  the 
shouts  of  the  British  Infantry  crying  cheeringly: 
"  Hutt,  ye  beggars !  Hutt,  ye  devils  !  Get  along ! 
Go  forward,  there  ! "  Then  followed  the  ringing 
of  rifle-butts  and  shrieks  of  pain.  The  troops  were 
banging  the  bare  toes  of  the  mob  with  their  gun- 
butts —  for  not  a  bayonet  had  been  fixed  My 
companion  mumbled  and  jabbered  as  we  walked 
on  until  we  were  carried  back  by  the  crowd  and 

333 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


had  to  force  our  way  to  the  troops.  I  caught  him 
by  the  wrist  and  felt  a  bangle  there  —  the  iron 
bangle  of  the  Sikhs  —  but  I  had  no  suspicions,  for 
Lalun  had  only  ten  minutes  before  put  her  arms 
round  me.  Thrice  we  were  carried  back  by  the 
crowd,  and  when  we  made  our  way  past  the  Brit- 
ish Infantry  it  was  to  meet  the  Sikh  Cavalry  driv- 
ing another  mob  before  them  witii  the  butts  of 
their  lances. 

"  What  are  these  dogs  ?  "  said  the  old  man. 

"  Sikhs  of  the  Cavalry,  Father,"  I  said,  and  we 
edged  our  way  up  the  line  of  horses  two  abreast 
and  found  the  Deputy  Commissioner,  his  helmet 
smashed  on  his  head,  surrounded  by  a  knot  of  men 
who  had  come  down  from  the  Club  as  amateur 
constables  and  had  helped  the  Police  mightily. 

"  We'll  keep  'em  on  the  run  till  dawn,"  said 
Petitt.    "  Who's  your  villainous  friend  ?  " 

I  had  only  time  to  say:  "The  Protection  of  the 
Sirkarl "  when  a  fresh  crowd  flying  before  the  Na- 
tive Infantry  carried  us  a  hundred  yards  nearer  to 
the  Kumharsen  Gate,  and  Petitt  was  swept  away 
like  a  shadow. 

"  I  do  not  know  —  I  cannot  see  —  this  is  all 
new  to  me!"  moaned  my  companion.  "How 
many  troops  are  there  in  the  City  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  five  hundred,"  I  said. 

"  A  lakh  of  men  beaten  by  five  hundred  — •  and 
Sikhs  among  them !    Surely,  surely,  I  am  an  old 

334 


ON  THE  CITY.  WALL 


man,  but  —  the  Kumharsen  Gate  is  new.  Who 
pulled  down  the  stone  lions?  Where  is  the  con- 
duit? Sahib,  I  am  a  very  old  man,  and,  alas,  I 
—  I  cannot  stand."  He  dropped  in  the  shadow 
of  the  Kumharsen  Gate  where  there  was  no  dis- 
turbance. A  fat  gentleman  wearing  gold  pince- 
nez  came  out  of  the  darkness. 

"  You  are  most  kind  to  bring  my  old  friend," 
he  said  suavely.  "  He  is  a  landholder  of  Akala. 
He  should  not  be  in  a  big  City  when  there  is  re- 
ligious excitement.  But  I  have  a  carriage  here. 
You  are  quite  truly  kind.  Will  you  help  me  to 
put  him  into  the  carriage  ?    It  is  very  late." 

We  bundled  the  old  man  into  a  hired  victoria 
that  stood  close  to  the  gate,  and  I  turned  back  to 
the  house  on  the  City  wall.  The  troops  were  driv- 
ing the  people  to  and  fro,  while  the  Police  shouted, 
"  To  your  houses  I  Get  to  your  houses  I  "  and  the 
dog-whip  of  the  Assistant  District  Superintend- 
ent cracked  remorselessly.  Terror-stricken  hunnias 
clung  to  the  stirrups  of  the  cavalry,  crying  that 
their  houses  had  been  robbed  (which  was  a  lie), 
and  the  burly  Sikh  horsemen  patted  them  on  the 
shoulder,  and  bade  them  return  to  those  houses 
lest  a  worse  thing  should  happen.  Parties  of  five 
or  six  British  soldiers,  joining  arms,  swept  down 
the  side-gullies,  their  rifles  on  their  backs,  stamp- 
ing, with  shouting  and  song,  upon  the  toes  of 
Hindu  and  Musalman.    Never  was  religious  en- 

335 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


thusiasm  more  systematically  squashed ;  and  never 
were  poor  breakers  of  the  peace  more  utterly  weary 
and  footsore.  They  were  routed  out  of  holes  and 
corners,  from  behind  well-pillars  and  byres,  and 
bidden  to  go  to  their  houses.  If  they  had  no 
houses  to  go  to,  so  much  the  worse  for  their 
toes. 

On  returning  to  Lalun's  door,  I  stumbled  over 
a  man  at  the  threshold.  He  was  sobbing  hys- 
terically and  his  arms  flapped  like  the  wings  of  a 
goose.  It  was  Wali  Dad,  Agnostic  and  Unbe- 
liever, shoeless,  turbanless,  and  frothing  at  the 
mouth,  the  flesh  on  his  chest  bruised  and  bleeding 
from  the  vehemence  with  which  he  had  smitten 
himself  A  broken  torch-handle  lay  by  his  side, 
and  his  quivering  lips  murmured,  "  Y'a  Hasan!  Ta 
Hussain  I  "  as  I  stooped  over  him.  I  pushed  him 
a  few  steps  up  the  staircase,  threw  a  pebble  at 
Lalun's  City  window,  and  hurried  home. 

Most  of  the  streets  were  very  still,  and  the  cold 
wind  that  comes  before  the  dawn  whistled  down 
them.  In  the  center  of  the  Square  of  the  Mosque 
a  man  was  bending  over  a  corpse.  The  skull  had 
^  been  smashed  in  by  gun-butt  or  bamboo-stave. 

"  It  is  expedient  that  one  man  should  die  for 
the  people,"  said  Petitt  grimly,  raising  the  shape- 
less head.  "  These  brutes  were  beginning  to  show 
their  teeth  too  much." 

And  from  afar  we  could  hear  the  soldiers  sing- 

33^ 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 


ing  "  Two  Lovely  Black  Eyes,"  as  they  drove  the 
remnant  of  the  rioters  within  doors. 

Of  course  you  can  guess  what  happened  ?  I 
was  not  so  clever.  When  the  news  went  abroad 
that  Khem  Singh  had  escaped  from  the  Fort,  I 
did  not,  since  I  was  then  living  this  story,  not 
writing  it,  connect  myself,  or  Lalun,  or  the  fat 
gentleman  of  the  gold  pince-nez^  with  his  disap- 
pearance. Nor  did  it  strike  me  that  Wali  Dad 
was  the  man  who  should  have  convoyed  him 
across  the  City,  or  that  Lalun's  arms  round  my 
neck  were  put  there  to  hide  the  money  that  Nasi- 
ban  gave  to  Khem  Singh,  and  that  Lalun  had  used 
me  and  my  white  face  as  even  a  better  safeguard 
than  Wali  Dad,  who  proved  himself  so  untrust- 
worthy. All  that  I  knew  at  the  time  was  that 
when  Fort  Amara  was  taken  up  with  the  riots 
Khem  Singh  profited  by  the  confusion  to  get 
away,  and  that  his  two  Sikh  guards  also  escaped. 

But  later  on  I  received  full  enlightenment ;  and 
so  did  Khem  Singh.  He  fled  to  those  who  knew 
him  in  the  old  days,  but  many  of  them  were  dead 
and  more  were  changed,  and  all  knew  something 
of  the  Wrath  of  the  Government.  He  went  to 
the  young  men,  but  the  glamour  of  his  name  had 
passed  away,  and  they  were  entering  native  regi-  ^ 
ments  or  Government  offices,  and  Khem  Singh 
could  give  them  neither  pension,  decorations,  nor 

337 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


influence  —  nothing  but  a  glorious  death  with 
their  backs  to  the  mouth  of  a  gun.  He  wrote 
letters  and  made  promises,  and  the  letters  fell  into 
bad  hands,  and  a  wholly  insignificant  subordinate 
officer  of  Police  tracked  them  down  and  gained 
promotion  thereby.  Moreover,  Khem  Singh  was 
old,  and  anise-seed  brandy  was  scarce,  and  he  had 
left  his  silver  cooking-pots  in  Fort  Amara  with  his 
nice  warm  bedding,  and  the  gentleman  with  the 
gold  pince-nez  was  told  by  those  who  had  em- 
ployed him  that  Khem  Singh  as  a  popular  leader 
was  not  worth  the  money  paid. 

"  Great  is  the  mercy  of  these  fools  of  English  I " 
said  Khem  Singh  when  the  situation  was  put 
before  him.  "  I  will  go  back  to  Fort  Amara  of 
m.y  own  free  will  and  gain  honour.  Give  me 
good  clothes  to  return  in." 

So,  at  his  own  time,  Khem  Singh  knocked  at 
the  wicket-gate  of  the  Fort  and  walked  to  the 
Captain  and  the  Subaltern,  who  were  nearly  gray- 
headed  on  account  of  correspondence  that  daily 
arrived  from  Simla  marked  "  Private.'* 

"  I  have  come  back.  Captain  Sahib,"  said  Khem 
Singh.  "  Put  no  more  guards  over  me.  It  is  no 
good  out  yonder." 

A  week  later  I  saw  him  for  the  first  time  to  my 
knowledge,  and  he  made  as  though  there  were  an 
understanding  between  us. 

"  It  was  well  done,  Sahib,"  said  he,  "  and  greatly 

338 


ON  THE  CITY  WALL 

I  admired  your  astuteness  in  thus  boldly  facing  the 
troops  when  I,  whom  they  would  have  doubtless 
torn  to  pieces,  was  with  you.  Now  there  is  a 
man  in  Fort  Ooltagarh  whom  a  bold  man  could 
with  ease  help  to  escape.    This  is  the  position  of 

the  Fort  as  I  draw  it  on  the  sand  

But  I  was  thinking  how  I  had  become  Lalun's 
Vizier  after  all. 


339 


THE  ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF 
PAGETT,  M.  P. 

'*  Because  half  a  dozen  grasshoppers  under  a  fern  make  the 
field  ring  with  their  importunate  chink  while  thousands  of  great 
cattle,  reposed  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  British  oak,  chew 
the  cud  and  are  silent,  pray  do  not  imagine  that  those  who 
make  the  noise  are  the  only  inhabitants  of  the  field  —  that,  of 
course,  they  are  many  in  number  —  or  that,  after  all,  they  are 
other  than  the  little,  shrivelled,  meagre,  hopping,  though  loud 
and  troublesome  insects  of  the  hour." — Burke:  **  Reflections 
on  the  Revolution  in  France.** 

They  were  sitting  in  the  verandah  of  "  the  splen- 
did palace  of  an  Indian  Pro-Consul,"  surrounded 
by  all  the  glory  and  mystery  of  the  immemorial 
East.  In  plain  English  it  was  a  one-storied,  ten- 
roomed,  whitewashed  mud-roofed  bungalow,  set 
in  a  dry  garden  of  dusty  tamarisk  trees  and  di- 
vided from  the  road  by  a  low  mud  wall.  The 
green  parrots  screamed  overhead  as  they  flew  in 
battalions  to  the  river  for  their  morning  drink. 
Beyond  the  wall,  clouds  of  fine  dust  showed  where 
the  cattle  and  goats  of  the  city  were  passing  afield 
to  graze.  The  remorseless  white  light  of  the  win- 
ter sunshine  of  Northern  India  lay  upon  every- 

340 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


thing  and  improved  nothing,  from  the  whining 
Persian-wheel  by  the  lawn-tennis  court  to  the  long 
perspective  of  level  road  and  the  blue,  domed 
tombs  of  Mahommedan  saints  just  visible  above 
the  trees. 

"  A  Happy  New  Year,"  said  Orde  to  his  guest. 
"  It's  the  first  you've  ever  spent  out  of  England, 
isn't  it^" 

"  Yes.  'Happy  New  Year,"  said  Pagett,  smil- 
ing at  the  sunshine.  "  What  a  divine  climate 
you  have  here  I  Just  think  of  the  brown  cold  fog 
hanging  over  London  now ! "  And  he  rubbed  his 
hands. 

It  was  more  than  twenty  years  since  he  had 
last  seen  Orde,  his  schoolmate,  and  their  paths  in 
the  world  had  divided  early.  The  one  had  quitted 
college  to  become  a  cog-wheel  in  the  machinery 
of  the  great  Indian  Government;  the  other,  more 
blessed  with  goods,  had  been  whirled  into  a  simi- 
lar position  in  the  English  scheme.  Three  suc- 
cessive elections  had  not  affected  Pagett's  position 
with  a  loyal  constituency,  and  he  had  grown  in- 
sensibly to  regard  himself  in  some  sort  as  a  pillar 
of  the  Empire  whose  real  worth  would  be  known 
later  on.  After  a  few  years  of  conscientious  at- 
tendance at  many  divisions,  after  newspaper  bat- 
tles innumerable,  and  the  publication  of  intermin- 
able correspondence,  and  more  hasty  oratory  than 
in  his  calmer  moments  he  cared  to  think  upon,  it 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


occurred  to  him,  as  it  had  occurred  to  many  of 
his  fellows  in  Parliament,  that  a  tour  to  India 
would  enable  him  to  sweep  a  larger  lyre  and  ad- 
dress himself  to  the  problems  of  Imperial  admin- 
istration with  a  firmer  hand.  Accepting,  there- 
fore, a  general  invitation  extended  to  him  by 
Orde  some  years  before,  Pagett  had  taken  ship 
to  Karachi,  and  only  over-night  had  been  received 
with  joy  by  the  Deputy-Commissioner  of  Amara. 
They  had  sat  late,  discussing  the  changes  and 
chances  of  twenty  years,  recalling  the  names  of 
the  dead,  and  weighing  the  futures  of  the  living^ 
as  is  the  custom  of  men  meeting  after  intervals  of 
action. 

Next  morning  they  smoked  the  after-breakfast 
pipe  in  the  verandah,  still  regarding  each  other 
curiously,  Pagett  in  a  light  gray  frock-coat  and 
garments  much  too  thin  for  the  time  of  the  year, 
and  a  puggried  sun-hat  carefully  and  wonderfully 
made;  Orde  in  a  shooting-coat,  riding-breeches, 
brown  cowhide  boots  with  spurs,  and  a  battered 
flax  helmet.  He  had  ridden  some  miles  in  the 
early  morning  to  inspect  a  doubtful  river-dam. 
The  men's  faces  differed  as  much  as  their  attire. 
Orde's,  worn  and  wrinkled  about  the  eyes  and 
grizzled  at  the  temples,  was  the  harder  and  more 
square  of  the  two,  and  it  was  with  something  like 
envy  that  the  owner  looked  at  the  comfortable 
outlines  of  Pagett's  blandly  receptive  counte- 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


nance,  the  clear  skin,  the  untroubled  eye,  and  the 
mobile,  clean-shaved  lips. 

"  And  this  is  India  !  "  said  Pagett  for  the  twen- 
tieth time,  staring  long  and  intently  at  the  gray 
feathering  of  the  tamarisks. 

"  One  portion  of  India  only.  It's  very  much 
like  this  for  300  miles  in  every  direction.  By 
the  way,  now  that  you  have  rested  a  little  —  I 
wouldn't  ask  the  old  question  before  —  what 
d'you  think  of  the  country  ?  " 

"  'Tis  the  most  pervasive  country  that  ever  yet 
was  seen.  I  acquired  several  pounds  of  your 
country  coming  up  from  Karachi.  The  air  is 
heavy  with  it,  and  for  miles  and  miles  along  that 
distressful  eternity  of  rail  there's  no  horizon  to 
show  where  air  and  earth  separate." 

"Yes.  It  isn't  easy  to  see  truly  or  far  in  India. 
But  you  had  a  decent  passage  out,  hadn't  you  ?  " 

"Very  good  on  the  whole.  Your  Anglo-Indian 
may  be  unsympathetic  about  one's  political  views; 
but  he  has  reduced  ship  life  to  a  science." 

"  The  Anglo-Indian  is  a  political  orphan,  and 
if  he's  wise  he  won't  be  in  a  hurry  to  be  adopted 
by  your  party  grandmothers.  But  how  were  your 
companions  unsympathetic  ?  " 

"  Well,  there  was  a  man  called  Dawlishe,  a 
judge  somewhere  in  this  country,  it  seems,  and 
a  capital  partner  at  whist,  by  the  way,  and  when 
I  wanted  to  talk  to  him  about  the  progress  of 

343 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


India  in  a  political  sense  [Orde  hid  a  grin  which 
might  or  might  not  have  been  sympathetic],  the 
National  Congress  movement,  and  other  things  in 
which,  as  a  Member  of  Parliament,  I'm  of  course 
interested,  he  shifted  the  subject,  and  when  I  once 
cornered  him,  he  looked  me  calmly  in  the  eye, 
and  said :  '  That's  all  Tommy  Rot.  Come  and 
have  a  game  at  Bull.'  You  may  laugh,  but  that 
isn't  the  way  to  treat  a  great  and  important  ques- 
tion ;  and,  knowing  who  I  was,  well,  I  thought  it 
rather  rude,  don't  you  know ;  and  yet  Dawlishe  is 
a  thoroughly  good  fellow." 

"  Yes ;  he's  a  friend  of  mine,  and  one  of  the 
straightest  men  I  know.  I  suppose,  like  many 
Anglo-Indians,  he  felt  it  was  hopeless  to  give  you 
any  just  idea  of  any  Indian  question  without  the 
documents  before  you,  and  in  this  case  the  docu- 
ments you  want  are  the  country  and  the  people.'* 

"  Precisely.  That  was  why  I  came  straight  to 
you,  bringing  an  open  mind  to  bear  on  things, 
I'm  anxious  to  know  what  popular  feeling  in  In- 
dia is  really  like,  y'know,  now  that  it  has  wakened 
into  political  life.  The  National  Congress,  in 
spite  of  Dawlishe,  must  have  caused  great  excite- 
ment among  the  masses  ?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,  nothing  could  be  more  tran- 
quil than  the  state  of  popular  feeling;  and  as  to 
excitement,  the  people  would  as  soon  be  excited 
over  the  '  Rule  of  Three '  as  over  the  Congress." 

344 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


"  Excuse  me,  Orde,  but  do  you  think  you  are  a 
fair  judge  ?  Isn't  the  official  Anglo-Indian  natu- 
rally jealous  of  any  external  influences  that  might 
move  the  masses,  and  so  much  opposed  to  liberal 
ideas,  truly  liberal  ideas,  that  he  can  scarcely  be 
expected  to  regard  a  popular  movement  with 
fairness  ?  " 

"  What  did  Dawlishe  say  about  Tommy  Rot  ? 
Think  a  moment,  old  man.  You  and  I  were 
brought  up  together;  taught  by  the  same  tutors, 
read  the  same  books,  lived  the  same  life,  and 
thought,  as  you  may  remember,  in  parallel  lines. 
I  come  out  here,  learn  new  languages,  and  work 
among  new  races;  while  you,  more  fortunate,  re- 
main at  home.  Why  should  I  change  my  mind 
—  our  mind  —  because  I  change  my  sky  ?  Why 
should  I  and  the  few  hundred  Englishmen  in  my 
service  become  unreasonable,  prejudiced  fossils, 
while  you  and  your  newer  friends  alone  remain 
bright  and  open-minded  *?  You  surely  don't  fancy 
civilians  are  members  of  a  Primrose  League  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not,  but  the  mere  position  of  an  Eng- 
lish official  gives  him  a  point  of  view  which  can- 
not but  bias  his  mind  on  this  question."  Pagett 
moved  his  knee  up  and  down  a  little  uneasily  as 
he  spoke. 

"  That  sounds  plausible  enough,  but,  like  more 
plausible  notions  on  Indian  matters,  I  believe  it's  a 
mistake.  You'll  find  when  you  come  to  consult  the 

345 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


unofficial  Briton  that  our  fault,  as  a  class — I  speak 
of  the  civilian  now  —  is  rather  to  magnify  the  pro- 
gress that  has  been  made  towards  liberal  institu- 
tions. It  is  of  English  origin,  such  as  it  is,  and  the 
stress  of  our  work  since  the  Mutiny  —  only  thirty 
years  ago  —  has  been  in  that  direction.  No,  I  think 
you  will  get  no  fairer  or  more  dispassionate  view 
of  the  Congress  business  than  such  men  as  I  can 
give  you.  But  I  may  as  well  say  at  once  that 
those  who  know  most  of  India,  from  the  inside, 
are  inclined  to  wonder  at  the  noise  our  scarcely 
begun  experiment  makes  in  England." 

"  But  surely  the  gathering  together  of  Congress 
delegates  is  of  itself  a  new  thing." 

"  There's  nothing  new  under  the  sun.  When 
Europe  was  a  jungle  half  Asia  flocked  to  the 
canonical  conferences  of  Buddhism ;  and  for  cen- 
turies the  people  have  gathered  at  Puri,  Hurdwar, 
Trimbak,  and  Benares  in  immense  numbers.  A 
great  meeting,  what  you  call  a  mass  meeting,  is 
really  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  popular  of  In- 
dian institutions.  In  the  case  of  the  Congress 
meetings,  the  only  notable  fact  is  that  the  priests 
of  the  altar  are  British,  not  Buddhist,  Jain  or  Brah- 
manical,  and  that  the  whole  thing  is  a  British  con- 
trivance kept  alive  by  the  efforts  of  Messrs.  Hume, 
Eardley  Norton,  and  Digby." 

"  You  mean  to  say,  then,  it's  not  a  spontaneous 
movement  ?  " 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 

"  What  movement  was  ever  spontaneous  in  any 
true  sense  of  the  word?  This  seems  to  be  more 
factitious  than  usual.  You  seem  to  know  a  great 
deal  about  it ;  try  it  by  the  touchstone  of  subscrip- 
tions, a  coarse  but  fairly  trustworthy  criterion,  and 
there  is  scarcely  the  colour  of  money  in  it.  The 
delegates  write  from  England  that  they  are  out  of 
pocket  for  working  expenses,  railway  fares,  and 
stationery  —  the  mere  pasteboard  and  scaffolding 
of  their  show.  It  is,  in  fact,  collapsing  from  mere 
financial  inanition." 

"  But  you  cannot  deny  that  the  people  of  India, 
who  are,  perhaps,  too  poor  to  subscribe,  are  men- 
tally and  morally  moved  by  the  agitation,"  Pagett 
insisted. 

"That  is  precisely  what  I  do  deny.  The  native 
side  of  the  movement  is  the  work  of  a  limited 
class,  a  microscopic  minority,  as  Lord  Dufferin  de- 
scribed it,  when  compared  with  the  people  proper, 
but  still  a  very  interesting  class,  seeing  that  it  is 
of  our  own  creation.  It  is  composed  almost  en- 
tirely of  those  of  the  literary  or  clerkly  castes  who 
have  received  an  English  education." 

"  Surely  that's  a  very  important  class.  Its  mem- 
bers must  be  the  ordained  leaders  of  popular 
thought." 

"  Anywhere  else  they  might  be  leaders,  but  they 
have  no  social  weight  in  this  topsy-turvy  land, 
and  though  they  have  been  employed  in  clerical 

347 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE  * 


work  for  generations,  they  have  no  practical  know- 
ledge of  affairs.  A  ship's  clerk  is  a  useful  person, 
but  he  is  scarcely  the  captain;  and  an  orderly- 
room  writer,  however  smart  he  may  be,  is  not  the 
colonel.  You  see,  the  writer  class  in  India  has 
never  till  now  aspired  to  anything  like  command. 
It  wasn't  allowed  to.  The  Indian  gentleman,  for 
thousands  of  years  past,  has  resembled  Victor 
Hugo's  noble : 

"  Un  vrai  sire 
Chatelain 
Laisse  ecrire 
Le  vilain. 
Sa  main  digne 
Quand  il  signc 
Egratigne 
Le  velin.'' 

And  the  little  egratignures  he  most  likes  to  make 
have  been  scored  pretty  deeply  by  the  sword." 

"  But  this  is  childish  and  mediaeval  nonsense  ! " 

"  Precisely ;  and  from  your,  or  rather  our,  point 
of  view  the  pen  is  mightier  than  the  sword.  In 
this  country  it's  otherwise.  The  fault  lies  in  our 
Indian  balances,  not  yet  adjusted  to  civilised 
weights  and  measures." 

"  Well,  at  all  events,  this  literary  class  repre- 
sent the  natural  aspirations  and  wishes  of  the  peo- 
ple at  large,  though  it  may  not  exactly  lead  them, 
and,  in  spite  of  all  you  say,  Orde,  I  defy  you  to 

348 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


find  a  really  sound  English  Radical  who  would 
not  sympathise  with  those  aspirations." 

Pagett  spoke  with  some  warmth,  and  he  had 
scarcely  ceased  when  a  well-appointed  dog-cart 
turned  into  the  compound  gates,  and  Orde  rose, 
saying : 

"  Here  is  Edwards,  the  Master  of  the  Lodge  I 
neglect  so  diligently,  come  to  talk  about  accounts, 
I  suppose." 

As  the  vehicle  drove  up  under  the  porch  Pagett 
also  rose,  saying  with  the  trained  effusion  born  of 
much  practice : 

"  But  this  is  also  my  fiiend,  my  old  and  valued 
friend,  Edwards.  I'm  delighted  to  see  you.  I 
knew  you  were  in  India,  but  not  exactly  where." 

"Then  it  isn't  accounts,  Mr.  Edwards,"  said 
Orde  cheerily. 

"  Why,  no,  sir ;  I  heard  Mr.  Pagett  was  coming, 
and  as  our  works  were  closed  for  the  New  Year  I 
thought  I  would  drive  over  and  see  him." 

"A  very  happy  thought.  Mr.  Edwards,  you 
may  not  know,  Orde,  was  a  leading  member  of 
our  Radical  Club  at  Switchton  when  I  was  begin- 
ning political  life,  and  I  owe  much  to  his  exertions. 
There's  no  pleasure  like  meeting  an  old  friend, 
except,  perhaps,  making  a  new  one.  I  suppose, 
Mr.  Edwards,  you  stick  to  the  good  old  cause  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see,  sir,  things  are  different  out 
here.    There's  precious  little  one  can  find  to  say 

349 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


against  the  Government,  which  was  the  main  of 
our  talk  at  home,  and  them  that  do  say  things  are 
not  the  sort  o'  people  a  man  who  respects  himself 
would  like  to  be  mixed  up  with.  There  are  no 
politics,  in  a  manner  of  speaking,  in  India.  It's 
all  work." 

"Surely  you  are  mistaken,  my  good  friend. 
Why,  I  have  come  all  the  way  from  England  just 
to  see  the  working  of  this  great  National  move- 
ment." 

"  I  don't  know  where  you're  going  to  find  the 
nation  as  moves,  to  begin  with,  and  then  you'll  be 
hard  put  to  it  to  find  what  they  are  moving  about. 
It's  like  this,  sir,"  said  Edwards,  who  had  not 
quite  relished  being  called  "  my  good  friend." 
"  They  haven't  got  any  grievance  —  nothing  to 
hit  with,  don't  you  see,  sir;  and  then  there's  not 
much  to  hit  against,  because  the  Government  is 
more  like  a  kind  of  general  Providence,  direct- 
ing an  old-established  state  of  things,  than  that  at 
home,  where  there's  something  new  thrown  down 
for  us  to  fight  about  every  three  months." 

"You  are  probably,  in  your  workshops,  full 
of  English  mechanics,  out  of  the  way  of  learning 
what  the  masses  think." 

"  I  don't  know  so  much  about  that.  There  are 
four  of  us  English  foremen,  and  between  seven  and 
eight  hundred  native  fitters,  smiths,  carpenters, 
painters,  and  such  like." 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


"  And  they  are  full  of  the  Congress,  of  course  ?  " 

"Never  hear  a  word  of  it  from  year's  end  to 
year's  end,  and  I  speak  the  talk,  too.  But  I 
wanted  to  ask  how  things  are  going  on  at  home 
—  old  Tyler  and  Brown  and  the  rest  ?  " 

"  We  will  speak  of  them  presently,  but  your 
account  of  the  indifference  of  your  men  surprises 
me  almost  as  much  as  your  own.  I  fear  you  are  a 
backslider  from  the  good  old  doctrine,  Edwards.'* 
Pagett  spoke  as  one  who  mourned  the  death  of 
a  near  relative. 

"Not  a  bit,  sir,  but  I  should  be  if  I  took  up 
with  a  parcel  of  babus,  pleaders,  and  schoolboys, 
as  never  did  a  day's  work  in  their  lives,  and 
couldn't  if  they  tried.  And  if  you  was  to  poll  us 
English  railway-men,  mechanics,  tradespeople,  and 
the  like  of  that  all  up  and  down  the  country  from 
Peshawur  to  Calcutta,  you  would  find  us  mostly 
in  a  tale  together.  And  yet  you  know  we're  the 
same  English  you  pay  some  respect  to  at  home  at 
'lection  time,  and  we  have  the  pull  o'  knowing 
something  about  it." 

"  This  is  very  curious,  but  you  will  let  me 
come  and  see  you,  and  perhaps  you  will  kindly 
show  me  the  railway  works,  and  we  will  talk 
things  over  at  leisure.  And  about  all  old  friends 
and  old  times,"  added  Pagett,  detecting  with 
quick  insight  a  look  of  disappointment  in  the 
mechanic's  face. 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


Nodding  briefly  to  Orde,  Edwards  mounted  his 
dog-cart  and  drove  off. 

"  It's  very  disappointing/'  said  the  Member  to 
Orde,  who,  while  his  friend  discoursed  with  Ed- 
wards, had  been  looking  over  a  bundle  of  sketches 
drawn  on  gray  paper  in  purple  ink,  brought  to 
him  by  a  Chuprassee, 

"  Don't  let  it  trouble  you,  old  chap,"  said  Orde 
sympathetically.  "  Look  here  a  moment,  here  are 
some  sketches  by  the  man  who  made  the  carved- 
wood  screen  you  admired  so  much  in  the  dining- 
room,  and  wanted  a  copy  of,  and  the  artist  himself 
is  here  too." 

"  A  native  ?  "  said  Pagett. 

"  Of  course,"  was  the  reply,  "  Bishen  Singh  is 
his  name,  and  he  has  two  brothers  to  help  him. 
When  there  is  an  important  job  to  do,  the  three 
go  into  partnership,  but  they  spend  most  of  their 
time  and  all  their  money  in  litigation  over  an  in- 
heritance, and  I'm  afraid  they  are  getting  involved. 
Thoroughbred  Sikhs  of  the  old  rock,  obstinate, 
touchy,  bigoted,  and  cunning,  but  good  men  for 
all  that.  Here  is  Bishen  Singh  —  shall  we  ask  him 
about  the  Congress  ^  " 

But  Bishen  Singh,  who  approached  with  a  re- 
spectful salaam,  had  never  heard  of  it,  and  he  lis 
tened  with  a  puzzled  face  and  obviously  feigned 
interest  to  Orde's  account  of  its  aims  and  objects, 
finally  shaking  his  vast  white  turban  with  great 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


significance  when  he  learned  that  it  was  promoted 
by  certain  pleaders  named  by  Orde,  and  by  educated 
natives.  He  began  with  laboured  respect  to  ex- 
plain how  he  was  a  poor  man  with  no  concern  in 
such  matters,  which  were  all  under  the  control  of 
God,  but  presently  broke  out  of  Urdu  into  familiar 
Punjabi,  the  mere  sound  of  which  had  a  rustic 
smack  of  village  smoke-reek  and  plough-tail,  as 
he  denounced  the  wearers  of  white  coats,  the  jug- 
glers with  words  who  filched  his  field  from  him, 
the  men  whose  backs  were  never  bowed  in  honest 
work;  and  poured  ironical  scorn  on  the  Bengali. 
He  and  one  of  his  brothers  had  seen  Calcutta,  and 
being  at  work  there,  had  Bengali  carpenters  given 
to  them  as  assistants. 

"  Those  carpenters ! "  said  Bishen  Singh.  " Black 
apes  were  more  efficient  workmates,  and  as  for 
the  Bengali  babu  —  tchick  I  "  The  guttural  click 
needed  no  interpretation,  but  Orde  translated  the 
rest,  while  Pagett  gazed  with  interest  at  the  wood- 
carver. 

"  He  seems  to  have  a  most  illiberal  prejudice 
against  the  Bengali,"  said  the  M.  P. 

"  Yes,  it's  very  sad  that  for  ages  outside  Bengal 
there  should  be  so  bitter  a  prejudice.  Pride  of 
race,  which  also  means  race-hatred,  is  the  plague 
and  curse  of  India  and  it  spreads  far."  Orde  pointed 
with  his  riding-whip  to  the  large  map  of  India  on 
the  verandah  wall. 

353 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


" See !  I  begin  with  the  North,"  said  he.  "  There's 
the  Afghan,  and,  as  a  highlander,  he  despises  all 
the  dwellers  in  Hindustan  —  with  the  exception 
of  the  Sikh,  whom  he  hates  as  cordially  as  the 
Sikh  hates  him.  The  Hindu  loathes  Sikh  and 
Afghan,  and  the  Rajput — that's  a  little  lower  down 
across  this  yellow  blot  of  desert — has  a  strong  ob- 
jection, to  put  it  mildly,  to  the  Maratha,  who,  by 
the  way,  poisonously  hates  the  Afghan.  Let's  go 
North  a  minute.  The  Sindhi  hates  everybody 
I've  mentioned.  Very  good,  we'll  take  less  warlike 
races.  The  cultivator  of  Northern  India  domi- 
neers over  the  man  in  the  next  province,  and  the 
Behari  of  the  North-West  ridicules  the  Bengali. 
They  are  all  at  one  on  that  point.  I'm  giving  you 
merely  the  roughest  possible  outlines  of  the  facts, 
of  course." 

Bishen  Singh,  his  clean-cut  nostrils  still  quiver- 
ing, watched  the  large  sweep  of  the  whip  as  it 
travelled  from  the  frontier,  through  Sindh,  the 
Punjab  and  Rajputana,  till  it  rested  by  the  valley 
of  the  Jumna. 

"  Hate  —  eternal  and  inextinguishable  hate," 
concluded  Orde,  flicking  the  lash  of  the  whip 
across  the  large  map  from  East  to  West  as  he  sat 
down.  "  Remember  Canning's  advice  to  Lord 
Granville,  'Never  write  or  speak  of  Indian  things 
without  looking  at  a  map.'  " 

Pagett  opened  his  eyes;  Orde  resumed.  "And 

354 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


the  race-hatred  is  only  a  part  of  it.  What's  really 
the  matter  with  Bishen  Singh  is  class-hatred,  which, 
unfortunately,  is  even  more  intense  and  more  widely 
spread.  That's  one  of  the  little  drawbacks  of  caste, 
which  some  of  your  recent  English  writers  find  an 
impeccable  system." 

The  wood-carver  was  glad  to  be  recalled  to  the 
business  of  his  craft,  and  his  eyes  shone  as  he  re- 
ceived instructions  for  a  carved  wooden  doorway 
for  Pagett,  which  he  promised  should  be  splendidly 
executed  and  despatched  to  England  in  six  months. 
It  is  an  irrelevant  detail,  but  in  spite  of  Orde's  re- 
minders, fourteen  months  elapsed  before  the  work 
was  finished.  Business  over,  Bishen  Singh  hung 
about,  reluctant  to  take  his  leave,  and  at  last  join- 
ing his  hands  and  approaching  Orde  with  bated 
breath  and  whispering  humbleness,  said  he  had  a 
petition  to  make.  Orde's  face  suddenly  lost  all 
trace  of  expression.  "  Speak  on,  Bishen  Singh," 
said  he,  and  the  carver  in  a  whining  tone  explained 
that  his  case  against  his  brothers  was  fixed  for  hear- 
ing before  a  native  judge,  and  —  here  he  dropped 
his  voice  still  lower  till  he  was  summarily  stopped 
by  Orde,  who  sternly  pointed  to  the  gate  with  an 
emphatic  Begone ! 

Bishen  Singh,  showing  but  little  sign  of  discom- 
posure, salaamed  respectfully  to  the  friends  and 
departed. 

Pagett  looked  inquiry ;  Orde,  with  complete  re- 
355 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


covery  of  his  usual  urbanity,  replied :  "  It's  no- 
thing, only  the  old  story :  he  wants  his  case  to  be 
tried  by  an  English  judge  —  they  all  do  that  —  but 
when  he  began  to  hint  that  the  other  side  were  in 
improper  relations  with  the  native  judge  I  had  to 
shut  him  up.  Gunga  Ram,  the  man  he  wanted  to 
make  insinuations  about,  may  not  be  very  bright; 
but  he's  as  honest  as  daylight  on  the  bench.  But 
that's  just  what  one  can't  get  a  native  to  believe." 

"  Do  you  really  mean  to  say  these  people  prefer 
to  have  their  cases  tried  by  English  judges  ^  " 

"  Why,  certainly." 

Pagett  drew  a  long  breath.  "  I  didn't  know 
that  before."  At  this  point  a  phaeton  entered 
the  compound,  and  Orde  rose  with  "Confound 
it,  there's  old  Rasul  Ali  Khan  come  to  pay  one 
of  his  tiresome  duty-calls.  I'm  afraid  we  shall 
never  get  through  our  little  Congress  discussion." 

Pagett  was  an  almost  silent  spectator  of  the 
grave  formalities  of  a  visit  paid  by  a  punctilious 
old  Mahommedan  gentleman  to  an  Indian  official ; 
and  was  much  impressed  by  the  distinction  of 
manner  and  fine  appearance  of  the  Mahommedan 
landholder.  When  the  exchange  of  polite  ba- 
nalities came  to  a  pause,  he  expressed  a  wish  to 
learn  the  courtly  visitor's  opinion  of  the  National 
Congress. 

Orde  reluctantly  interpreted,  and  with  a  smile 
which  even  Mahommedan  politeness  could  not 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


save  from  bitter  scorn,  Rasul  Ali  Khan  intimated 
that  he  knew  nothing  about  it  and  cared  still  less. 
It  was  a  kind  of  talk  encouraged  by  the  Govern- 
ment for  some  mysterious  purpose  of  its  own,  and 
for  his  own  part  he  wondered  and  held  his  peace. 

Pagett  was  far  from  satisfied  with  this,  and 
wished  to  have  the  old  gentleman's  opinion  on 
the  propriety  of  managing  all  Indian  affairs  on 
the  basis  of  an  elective  system. 

Orde  did  his  best  to  explain,  but  it  was  plain 
the  visitor  was  bored  and  bewildered.  Frankly, 
he  didn't  think  much  of  committees ;  they  had  a 
Municipal  Committee  at  Lahore  and  had  elected 
a  menial  servant,  an  orderly,  as  a  member.  He 
had  been  informed  of  this  on  good  authority,  and 
after  that  committees  had  ceased  to  interest  him. 
But  all  was  according  to  the  rule  of  Government, 
and,  please  God,  it  was  all  for  the  best. 

"  What  an  old  fossil  it  is ! "  cried  Pagett,  as 
Orde  returned  from  seeing  his  guest  to  the  door; 
"just  like  some  old  blue-blooded  hidalgo  of  Spain. 
What  does  he  really  think  of  the  Congress  after 
all,  and  of  the  elective  system  ?  " 

"  Hates  it  all  like  poison.  When  you  are  sure 
of  a  majority,  election  is  a  fine  system;  but  you 
can  scarcely  expect  the  Mahommedans,  the  most 
masterful  and  powerful  minority  in  the  country, 
to  contemplate  their  own  extinction  with  joy. 
The  worst  of  it  is  that  he  and  his  co-religionists, 

357 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


who  are  many,  and  the  landed  proprietors,  also  of 
Hindu  race,  are  frightened  and  put  out  by  this 
election  business  and  by  the  importance  we  have 
bestowed  on  lawyers,  pleaders,  writers,  and  the 
like,  who  have,  up  to  now,  been  in  abject  sub- 
mission to  them.  They  say  little,  but  after  all 
they  are  the  most  important  faggots  in  the  great 
bundle  of  communities,  and  all  the  glib  bunkum 
in  the  world  would  not  pay  for  their  estrangement. 
They  have  controlled  the  land." 

"  But  I  am  assured  that  experience  of  local  self- 
government  in  your  municipalities  has  been  most 
satisfactory,  and  when  once  the  principle  is  ac- 
cepted in  your  centres,  don't  you  know,  it  is 
bound  to  spread,  and  these  important — ah'm  — 
people  of  yours  would  learn  it  like  the  rest.  I  see 
no  difficulty  at  all,"  and  the  smooth  lips  closed 
with  the  complacent  snap  habitual  to  Pagett, 
M.  P.,  the  "  man  of  cheerful  yesterdays  and  con- 
fident to-morrows." 

Orde  looked  at  him  with  a  dreary  smile. 

"  The  privilege  of  election  has  been  most  re- 
luctantly withdrawn  from  scores  of  municipalities, 
others  have  had  to  be  summarily  suppressed,  and, 
outside  the  Presidency  towns,  the  actual  work 
done  has  been  badly  performed.  This  is  of  less 
moment,  perhaps  —  it  only  sends  up  the  local 
death-rates  —  than  the  fact  that  the  public  interest 
in  municipal  elections,  never  very  strong,  has 

358 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


waned,  and  is  waning,  in  spite  of  careful  nursing 
on  the  part  of  Government  servants." 

"  Can  you  explain  this  lack  of  interest  ?  "  said 
Pagett,  putting  aside  the  rest  of  Orde's  remarks. 

"  You  may  find  a  ward  of  the  key  in  the  fact 
that  only  one  in  every  thousand  of  our  population 
can  spell.  Then  they  are  infinitely  more  inter- 
ested in  religion  and  caste  questions  than  in  any 
sort  of  politics.  When  the  business  of  mere  ex- 
istence is  over,  their  minds  are  occupied  by  a  series 
of  interests,  pleasures,  rituals,  superstitions,  and 
the  like,  based  on  centuries  of  tradition  and  usage. 
You,  perhaps,  find  it  hard  to  conceive  of  people 
absolutely  devoid  of  curiosity,  to  whom  the  book, 
the  daily  paper,  and  the  printed  speech  are  un- 
known, and  you  would  describe  their  life  as  blank. 
That's  a  profound  mistake.  You  are  in  another 
land,  another  century,  down  on  the  bed-rock  of 
society,  where  the  family  merely,  and  not  the 
community,  is  all-important.  The  average  Ori- 
ental cannot  be  brought  to  look  beyond  his  clan. 
His  life,  too,  is  more  complete  and  self-sufficing 
and  less  sordid  and  low-thoughted  than  you  might 
imagine.  It  is  bovine  and  slow  in  some  respects, 
but  it  is  never  empty.  You  and  I  are  inclined 
to  put  the  cart  before  the  horse,  and  to  forget  that 
it  is  the  man  that  is  elemental,  not  the  book. 

'*  The  corn  and  the  cattle  are  all  my  care. 
And  the  rest  is  the  will  of  God." 

359 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


Why  should  such  folk  look  up  from  their  im- 
memorially  appointed  round  of  duty  and  interests 
to  meddle  with  the  unknown  and  fuss  with  voting- 
papers  ?  How  would  you,  atop  of  all  your  inter- 
ests, care  to  conduct  even  one-tenth  of  your  life 
according  to  the  manners  and  customs  of  the 
Papuans,  let's  say That's  what  it  comes  to.'* 
t  "  But  if  they  won't  take  the  trouble  to  vote, 
why  do  you  anticipate  that  Mahommedans,  pro- 
prietors, and  the  rest  would  be  crushed  by  majori- 
ties of  them"?" 

Again  Pagett  disregarded  the  closing  sentence. 

"Because,  though  the  landholders  would  not 
move  a  finger  on  any  purely  political  question, 
they  could  be  raised  in  dangerous  excitement  by 
religious  hatreds.  Already  the  first  note  of  this 
has  been  sounded  by  the  people  who  are  trying 
to  get  up  an  agitation  on  the  cow-killing  ques- 
tion, and  every  year  there  is  trouble  over  the  Ma- 
hommedan  Muharrum  processions." 

"  But  who  looks  after  the  popular  rights,  being 
thus  unrepresented  ?  " 

"  The  Government  of  Her  Majesty  the  Queen, 
Empress  of  India,  in  which,  if  the  Congress  pro- 
moters are  to  be  believed,  the  people  have  an  im- 
plicit trust;  for  the  Congress  circular,  specially 
prepared  for  rustic  comprehension,  says  the  move- 
ment is  ''for  the  remission  of  tax^  the  advancement  of 
Hindustan^  and  the  strengthening  of  the  British  Govern- 

360 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


ment'  This  paper  is  headed  in  large  letters  — 
'  May  the  Prosperity  of  the  Empress  of  India 

ENDURE.'  " 

"  Really !  "  said  Pagett,  "  that  shows  some  clev- 
erness. But  there  are  things  better  worth  imitation 
in  our  English  methods  of  —  er  —  political  state- 
ment than  this  sort  of  amiable  fraud." 

"Anyhow,"  resumed  Orde,  "you  perceive  that 
not  a  word  is  said  about  elections  and  the  elective 
principle,  and  the  reticence  of  the  Congress  pro- 
moters here  shows  they  are  wise  in  their  generation." 

"  But  the  elective  principle  must  triumph  in  the 
end,  and  the  little  difficulties  you  seem  to  antici- 
pate would  give  way  on  the  introduction  of  a  well- 
balanced  scheme  capable  of  indefinite  extension." 

"  But  is  it  possible  to  devise  a  scheme  which, 
always  assuming  that  the  people  took  any  interest 
in  it,  without  enormous  expense,  ruinous  disloca- 
tion of  the  administration  and  danger  to  the  pub- 
lic peace,  can  satisfy  the  aspirations  of  Mr.  Hume 
and  his  following,  and  yet  safeguard  the  interests 
of  the  Mahommedans,  the  landed  and  wealthy 
classes,  the  conservative  Hindus,  the  Eurasians, 
Parsees,  Sikhs,  Rajputs,  native  Christians,  domi- 
ciled Europeans  and  others,  who  are  each  impor- 
tant and  powerful  in  their  way  *?  " 

Pagett's  attention,  however,  was  diverted  to  the 
gate,  where  a  group  of  cultivators  stood  in  appar- 
ent hesitation. 

361 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"  Here  are  the  twelve  Apostles,  by  Jove !  — 
come  straight  out  of  RafFaele's  cartoons,"  said  the 
M.  P.,  with  the  fresh  appreciation  of  a  new-comer. 

Orde,  loath  to  be  interrupted,  turned  impatiently 
towards  the  villagers,  and  their  leader,  handing  his 
long  staff  to  one  of  his  companions,  advanced  to 
the  house. 

"  It  is  old  Jelloo,  the  Lumberdar  or  head-man 
of  Find  Sharkot,  and  a  very  intelligent  man  for  a 
villager." 

The  Jat  farmer  had  removed  his  shoes  and  stood 
smiling  on  the  edge  of  the  verandah.  His  strongly 
marked  features  glowed  with  russet  bronze,  and 
his  bright  eyes  gleamed  under  deeply  set  brows, 
contracted  by  life-long  exposure  to  sunshine.  His 
beard  and  moustache,  streaked  with  gray,  swept 
from  bold  cliffs  of  brow  and  cheek  in  the  large 
sweeps  one  sees  drawn  by  Michael  Angelo,  and 
strands  of  long  black  hair  mingled  with  the  irregu- 
larly piled  wreaths  and  folds  of  his  turban.  The 
drapery  of  stout  blue  cotton  cloth  thrown  over  his 
broad  shoulders  and  girt  round  his  narrow  loins, 
hung  from  his  tall  form  in  broadly  sculptured  folds 
and  he  would  have  made  a  superb  model  for  an 
artist  in  search  of  a  patriarch. 

Orde  greeted  him  cordially,  and  after  a  polite 
pause  the  countryman  started  off  with  a  long  story 
told  with  impressive  earnestness.  Orde  listened 
and  smiled,  interrupting  the  speaker  at  times  to 

362 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


argue  and  reason  with  him  in  a  tone  which  Pagett 
could  hear  was  kindly,  and,  finally  checking  the 
flux  of  words,  was  about  to  dismiss  him  when 
Pagett  suggested  that  he  should  be  asked  about 
the  National  Congress. 

But  Jelloo  had  never  heard  of  it.  He  was  a 
poor  man,  and  such  things,  by  the  favour  of  his 
Honour,  did  not  concern  him. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  your  big  friend  that 
he  was  so  terribly  in  earnest  ?  "  asked  Pagett,  when 
he  had  left. 

"Nothing  much.  He  wants  the  blood  of  the 
people  in  the  next  village,  who  have  had  small- 
pox and  cattle  plague  pretty  badly,  and  by  the 
help  of  a  wizard,  a  currier,  and  several  pigs  have 
passed  it  on  to  his  own  village.  'Wants  to  know 
if  they  can't  be  run  in  for  this  awful  crime.  It 
seems  they  made  a  dreadful  charivari  at  the  village 
boundary,  threw  a  quantity  of  spell-bearing  objects 
over  the  border,  a  buffalo's  skull  and  other  things; 
then  branded  a  chamar  —  what  you  would  call  a 
currier  —  on  his  hinder  parts  and  drove  him  and 
a  number  of  pigs  over  into  Jelloo's  village.  Jelloo 
says  he  can  bring  evidence  to  prove  that  the  wiz- 
ard directing  these  proceedings,  who  is  a  Sansi,  has 
been  guilty  of  theft,  arson,  cattle-killing,  perjury 
and  murder,  but  would  prefer  to  have  him  pun- 
ished for  bewitching  them  and  inflicting  small- 
pox." 

363 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"And  how  on  earth  did  you  answer  such  a 
lunatic?" 

"Lunatic  !  the  old  fellow  is  as  sane  as  you  or  I ; 
and  he  has  some  ground  of  complaint  against 
those  Sansis.  I  asked  if  he  would  like  a  native 
superintendent  of  police  with  some  men  to  make 
inquiries,  but  he  objected  on  the  grounds  the 
police  were  rather  worse  than  small-pox  and  crim- 
inal tribes  put  together." 

"Criminal  tribes  —  er — I  don't  quite  under- 
stand," said  Pagett. 

"  We  have  in  India  many  tribes  of  people  who 
in  the  slack  ante-British  days  became  robbers,  in 
various  kind,  and  preyed  on  the  people.  They 
are  being  restrained  and  reclaimed  little  by  little, 
and  in  time  will  become  useful  citizens,  but  they 
still  cherish  hereditary  traditions  of  crime,  and  are 
a  difficult  lot  to  deal  with.  By  the  way,  what 
about  the  political  rights  of  these  folk  under 
your  schemes?  The  country  people  call  them 
vermin,  but  I  suppose  they  would  be  electors 
with  the  rest." 

"  Nonsense  —  special  provision  would  be  made 
for  them  in  a  well-considered  electoral  scheme, 
and  they  would  doubtless  be  treated  with 
fitting  severity,"  said  Pagett  with  a  magisterial 
air. 

"  Severity,  yes — but  whether  it  would  be  fitting 
is  doubtful.    Even  those  poor  devils  have  rights, 

3^4 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P 


and,  after  all,  they  only  practise  what  they  have 
been  taught." 

"  But  criminals,  Orde  ! " 

"  Yes,  criminals  with  codes  and  rituals  of  crime, 
gods  and  godlings  of  crime,  and  a  hundred  songs 
and  sayings  in  praise  of  it.  Puzzling,  isn't 
it?" 

"  It's  simply  dreadful.  They  ought  to  be  put 
down  at  once.    Are  there  many  of  them  ?  " 

"  Not  more  than  about  sixty  thousand  in  this 
province,  for  many  of  the  tribes  broadly  described 
as  criminal  are  really  vagabond  and  criminal  only 
on  occasion,  while  others  are  being  settled  and  re- 
claimed. They  are  of  great  antiquity,  a  legacy 
from  the  past,  the  golden,  glorious  Aryan  past  of 
Max  Mliller,  Birdwood  and  the  rest  of  your  spin- 
drift philosophers." 

An  orderly  brought  a  card  to  Orde,  who  took 
it  with  a  movement  of  irritation  at  the  interruption, 
and  handed  it  to  Pagett :  a  large  card  with  a  ruled 
border  in  red  ink,  and  in  the  centre  in  school-boy 
copper-plate,  Mr.  Dina  Nath.  "Give  salaam," 
said  the  civilian,  and  there  entered  in  haste  a  slen- 
der youth,  clad  in  a  closely  fitting  coat  of  gray 
homespun,  tight  trousers,  patent-leather  shoes,  and 
a  small  black  velvet  cap.  His  thin  cheek  twitched, 
and  his  eyes  wandered  restlessly,  for  the  young 
man  was  evidently  nervous  and  uncomfortable, 
though  striving  to  assume  a  free-and-easy  air. 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"  Your  honour  may  perhaps  remember  me,"  he 
said  in  English,  and  Orde  scanned  him  keenly. 

"  I  know  your  face,  somehow.  You  belonged 
to  the  Shershah  district,  I  think,  when  I  was  in 
charge  there  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  my  father  is  writer  at  Shershah,  and 
your  honour  gave  me  a  prize  when  I  was  first  in 
the  Middle  School  examination  five  years  ago. 
Since  then  I  have  prosecuted  my  studies,  and  I  am 
now  second  year's  student  in  the  Mission  College." 

"  Of  course  :  you  are  Kedar  Nath's  son  —  the 
boy  who  said  he  liked  geography  better  than  play 
or  sugar-cakes,  and  I  didn't  believe  you.  How  is 
your  father  getting  on  ?  " 

"  He  is  well,  and  he  sends  his  salaam,  but  his 
circumstances  are  depressed,  and  he  also  is  down 
on  his  luck." 

"  You  learn  English  idioms  at  the  Mission  Col- 
lege, it  seems." 

"  Yes,  sir,  they  are  the  best  idioms,  and  my  fa- 
ther ordered  me  to  ask  your  honour  to  say  a  word 
for  him  to  the  present  incumbent  of  your  honour's 
shoes,  the  latchet  of  which  he  is  not  worthy  to 
open,  and  who  knows  not  Joseph;  for  things  are 
different  at  Shershah  now,  and  my  father  wants 
promotion." 

"  Your  father  is  a  good  man,  and  I  will  do  what 
I  can  for  him." 

At  this  point  a  telegram  was  handed  to  Orde, 

366 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


who,  after  glancing  at  it,  said  he  must  leave  his 
young  friend,  whom  he  introduced  to  Pagett,  "  a 
member  of  the  English  House  of  Commons  who 
wishes  to  learn  about  India." 

Orde  had  scarcely  retired  with  his  telegram  when 
Pagett  began  : 

"  Perhaps  you  can  tell  me  something  of  the  Na- 
tional Congress  movement?" 

"  Sir,  it  is  the  greatest  movement  of  modern 
times,  and  one  in  which  all  educated  men  like  us 
must  pin.    All  our  students  are  for  the  Congress." 

"  Excepting,  I  suppose,  Mahommedans,  and  the 
Christians  ?  "  said  Pagett,  quick  to  use  his  recent 
instruction. 

"  These  are  some  mere  exceptions  to  the  uni- 
versal rule." 

"  But  the  people  outside  the  College,  the  work- 
ing classes,  the  agriculturists ;  your  father  and  mo- 
ther, for  instance." 

"  My  mother,"  said  the  young  man,  with  a  visi- 
ble effort  to  bring  himself  to  pronounce  the  word, 
"  has  no  ideas,  and  my  father  is  not  agriculturist, 
nor  working  class;  he  is  of  the  Kayeth  caste;  but 
he  had  not  the  advantage  of  a  collegiate  education, 
and  he  does  not  know  much  of  the  Congress.  It 
is  a  movement  for  the  educated  young-man" — 
connecting  adjective  and  noun  in  a  sort  of  vocal 
hyphen. 

"  Ah,  yes,"  said  Pagett,  feeling  he  was  a  little 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


off  the  rails,  "  and  what  are  the  benefits  you  expect 
to  gain  by  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  sir,  everything.  England  owes  its  great- 
ness to  Parliamentary  institutions  and  we  should 
at  once  gain  the  same  high  position  in  scale  of  na- 
tions. Sir,  we  wish  to  have  the  sciences,  the  arts, 
the  manufactures,  the  industrial  factories,  with 
steam-engines  and  other  motive  powers  and  pub- 
lic meetings  and  debates.  Already  we  have  a  de- 
bating club  in  connection  with  the  college  and 
elect  a  Mr.  Speaker.  Sir,  the  progress  must  come. 
You  also  are  a  Member  of  Parliament  and  worship 
the  great  Lord  Ripon,"  said  the  youth,  breathlessly, 
and  his  black  eyes  flashed  as  he  finished  his  com- 
maless  sentences. 

"  Well,"  said  Pagett,  drily,  "  it  has  not  yet  oc- 
curred to  me  to  worship  his  Lordship,  although  I 
believe  he  is  a  very  worthy  man,  and  I  am  not 
sure  that  England  owes  quite  all  the  things  you 
name  to  the  House  of  Commons.  You  see,  my 
young  friend,  the  growth  of  a  nation  like  ours  is 
slow,  subject  to  many  influences,  and  if  you  have 
read  your  history  aright  " 

"  Sir,  I  know  it  all  —  all !  Norman  Conquest, 
Magna  Charta,  Runnymede,  Reformation,  Tudors, 
Stuarts,  Mr.  Milton  and  Mr.  Burke,  and  I  have 
read  something  of  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  and  Gib- 
bon's '  Decline  and  Fall,'  Reynolds'  *  Mysteries  of 
the  Court,'  and  " 

368 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


Pagett  felt  like  one  who  had  pulled  the  string 
of  a  shower-bath  unawares,  and  hastened  to  stop 
the  torrent  with  a  question  as  to  what  particular 
grievances  of  the  people  of  India  the  attention  of 
an  elected  assembly  should  be  first  directed.  But 
young  Mr.  Dina  Nath  was  slow  to  particularise. 
There  were  many,  very  many  demanding  con- 
sideration. Mr.  Pagett  would  like  to  hear  of  one 
or  two  typical  examples.  The  Repeal  of  the 
Arms  Act  was  at  last  named,  and  the  student 
learned  for  the  first  time  that  a  license  was  neces- 
sary before  an  Englishman  could  carry  a  gun  in 
England.  Then  natives  of  India  ought  to  be 
allowed  to  become  Volunteer  Riflemen  if  they 
chose,  and  the  absolute  equality  of  the  Oriental 
with  his  European  fellow-subject  in  civil  status 
should  be  proclaimed  on  principle,  and  the  In- 
dian Army  should  be  considerably  reduced.  The 
student  was  not,  however,  prepared  with  answers 
to  Mr.  Pagett's  mildest  questions  on  these  points, 
and  he  returned  to  vague  generalities,  leaving  the 
M.  P.  so  much  impressed  with  the  crudity  of  his 
views  that  he  was  glad  on  Orde's  return  to  say 
good-bye  to  his  "  very  interesting  "  young  friend. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  young  India  ?  "  asked 
Orde. 

"  Curious,  very  curious  —  and  callow." 
"  And  yet,"  the   civilian  replied,  "  one  can 
scarcely  help  sympathising  with  him  for  his  mere 

369 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


youth's  sake.  The  young  orators  of  the  Oxford 
Union  arrived  at  the  same  conclusions  and  showed 
doubtless  just  the  same  enthusiasm.  If  there  were 
any  political  analogy  between  India  and  England, 
if  the  thousand  races  of  this  Empire  were  one,  if 
there  were  any  chance  even  of  their  learning  to 
speak  one  language,  if,  in  short,  India  were  a 
Utopia  of  the  debating-room,  and  not  a  real  land, 
this  kind  of  talk  might  be  worth  listening  to,  but 
it  is  all  based  on  false  analogy  and  ignorance  of 
the  facts." 

"  But  he  is  a  native  and  knows  the  facts." 

"  He  is  a  sort  of  English  schoolboy,  but  married 
three  years,  and  the  father  of  two  weaklings,  and 
knows  less  than  most  English  schoolboys.  You 
saw  all  he  is  and  knows,  and  such  ideas  as  he  has 
acquired  are  directly  hostile  to  the  most  cherished 
convictions  of  the  vast  majority  of  the  people." 

"But  what  does  he  mean  by  saying  he  is  a 
student  of  a  mission  college?    Is  he  a  Christian  ?  " 

"  He  meant  just  what  he  said,  and  he  is  not  a 
Christian,  nor  ever  will  he  be.  Good  people  in 
America,  Scotland,  and  England,  most  of  whom 
would  never  dream  of  collegiate  education  for 
their  own  sons,  are  pinching  themselves  to  bestow 
it  in  pure  waste  on  Indian  youths.  Their  scheme 
is  an  oblique,  subterranean  attack  on  heathenism ; 
the  theory  being  that  with  the  jam  of  secular 
education,  leading  to  a  University  degree,  the  pill 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


of  moral  or  religious  instruction  may  be  coaxed 
down  the  heathen  gullet." 

"But  does  it  succeed;  do  they  make  con- 
verts ?  " 

"  They  make  no  converts,  for  the  subtle  Ori- 
ental swallows  the  jam  and  rejects  the  pill ;  but 
the  mere  example  of  the  sober,  righteous,  and 
godly  lives  of  the  principals  and  professors,  who 
are  most  excellent  and  devoted  men,  must  have  a 
certain  moral  value.  Yet,  as  Lord  Lansdowne 
pointed  out  the  other  day,  the  market  is  danger- 
ously overstocked  with  graduates  of  our  Univer- 
sities who  look  for  employment  in  the  adminis- 
tration. An  immense  number  are  employed,  but 
year  by  year  the  college  mills  grind  out  increasing 
lists  of  youths  foredoomed  to  failure  and  disap- 
pointment, and  meanwhile  trade,  manufactures, 
and  the  industrial  arts  are  neglected  and  in  fact 
regarded  with  contempt  by  our  new  literary 
mandarins  in  posse" 

"But  our  young  friend  said  he  wanted  steam- 
engines  and  factories,"  said  Pagett. 

"  Yes,  he  would  like  to  direct  such  concerns. 
He  wants  to  begin  at  the  top,  for  manual  labour 
is  held  to  be  discreditable,  and  he  would  never 
defile  his  hands  by  the  apprenticeship  which  the 
architects,  engineers,  and  manufacturers  of  England 
cheerfully  undergo;  and  he  would  be  aghast  to 
learn  that  the  leading  names  of  industrial  enter- 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


prise  in  England  belonged  a  generation  or  two 
since,  or  now  belong,  to  men  who  wrought  with 
their  own  hands.  And,  though  he  talks  glibly  of 
manufacturers,  he  refuses  to  see  that  the  Indian 
manufacturer  of  the  future  will  be  the  despised 
workman  of  the  present.  It  was  proposed,  for 
example,  a  few  weeks  ago,  that  a  certain  munici- 
pality in  this  province  should  establish  an  elemen- 
tary technical  school  for  the  sons  of  workmen. 
The  stress  of  the  opposition  to  the  plan  came 
from  a  pleader  who  owed  all  he  had  to  a  college 
education  bestowed  on  him  gratis  by  Government 
and  missions.  You  would  have  fancied  some  fine 
old  crusted  Tory  squire  of  the  last  generation  was 
speaking.  '  These  people,*  he  said, '  want  no  edu- 
cation, for  they  learn  their  trades  from  their  fathers, 
and  to  teach  a  workman's  son  the  elements  of 
mathematics  and  physical  science  would  give  him 
ideas  above  his  business.  They  must  be  kept  in 
their  place,  and  it  was  idle  to  imagine  that  there 
was  any  science  in  wood  or  iron  work.'  And  he 
carried  his  point.  But  the  Indian  workman  will 
rise  in  the  social  scale  in  spite  of  the  new  literary 
caste." 

"  In  England  we  have  scarcely  begun  to  realise 
that  there  is  an  industrial  class  in  this  country,  yet, 
I  suppose,  the  example  of  men  like  Edwards,  for 
instance,  must  tell,"  said  Pagett  thoughtfully. 

"That  you  shouldn't  know  much  about  it  is 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  R 

natural  enough,  for  there  are  but  few  sources  of 
information.  India  in  this,  as  in  other  respects,  is 
Uke  a  badly  kept  ledger — not  written  up  to  date. 
And  men  like  Edwards  are,  in  reality,  missionaries 
who  by  precept  and  example  are  teaching  more 
lessons  than  they  know.  Only  a  few,  however, 
of  their  crowds  of  subordinates  seem  to  care  to  try 
to  emulate  them,  and  aim  at  individual  advance- 
ment; the  rest  drop  into  the  ancient  Indian  caste 
groove." 

"  How  do  you  mean  *?  "  asked  Pagett. 

"  Well,  it  is  found  that  the  new  railway  and 
factory  workmen,  the  fitter,  the  smith,  the  engine- 
driver,  and  the  rest  are  already  forming  separate 
hereditary  castes.  You  may  notice  this  down  at 
Jamalpur  in  Bengal,  one  of  the  oldest  railway 
centres;  and  at  other  places,  and  in  other  indus- 
tries, they  are  following  the  same  inexorable  In- 
dian law." 

"  Which  means  ?  "  queried  Pagett. 

"  It  means  that  the  rooted  habit  of  the  people 
is  to  gather  in  small  self-contained,  self-sufficing 
family  groups  with  no  thought  or  care  for  any 
interests  but  their  own — a  habit  which  is  scarcely 
compatible  with  the  right  acceptation  of  the  elec- 
tive principle." 

"  Yet  you  must  admit,  Orde,  that  though  our 
young  friend  was  not  able  to  expound  the  faith 
that  is  in  him,  your  Indian  army  is  too  big." 

373 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"  Not  nearly  big  enough  for  its  main  purpose. 
And,  as  a  side  issue,  there  are  certain  powerful 
minorities  of  fighting  folk  whose  interests  an  Asi- 
atic Government  is  bound  to  consider.  Arms  is 
as  much  a  means  of  Hvelihood  as  civil  employ- 
under  Government  and  law.  And  it  would  be 
a  heavy  strain  on  British  bayonets  to  hold  down 
Sikhs,  Jats,  Bilochis,  Rohillas,  Rajputs,  Bhils, 
Dogras,  Pathans,  and  Gurkhas  to  abide  by  the 
decisions  of  a  numerical  majority  opposed  to  their 
interests.  Leave  the  'numerical  majority' to  itself 
without  the  British  bayonets  —  a  flock  of  sheep 
might  as  reasonably  hope  to  manage  a  troop  of 
collies." 

"  This  complaint  about  excessive  growth  of  the 
army  is  akin  to  another  contention  of  the  Con- 
gress party.  They  protest  against  the  malversa- 
tion of  the  whole  of  the  moneys  raised  by  addi- 
tional taxes  as  a  Famine  Insurance  Fund  to  other 
purposes.  You  must  be  aware  that  this  special 
Famine  Fund  has  all  been  spent  on  frontier  roads 
and  defences  and  strategic  railway  schemes  as  a 
protection  against  Russia." 

"But  there  was  never  a  special  famine  fund 
raised  by  special  taxation  and  put  by  as  in  a  box. 
No  sane  administrator  would  dream  of  such  a 
thing.  In  a  time  of  prosperity  a  finance  minister, 
rejoicing  in  a  margin,  proposed  to  annually  apply 
a  million  and  a  half  to  the  construction  of  rail- 

374 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 

ways  and  canals  for  the  protection  of  districts  lia- 
ble to  scarcity,  and  to  the  reduction  of  the  annual 
loans  for  public  works.  But  times  were  not  al- 
ways prosperous,  and  the  finance  minister  had  to 
choose  whether  he  would  hang  up  the  insurance 
scheme  for  a  year  or  impose  fresh  taxation.  When 
a  farmer  hasn't  got  the  little  surplus  he  hoped  to 
have  for  buying  a  new  waggon  and  draining  a 
low-lying  field  corner,  you  don't  accuse  him  of 
malversation  if  he  spends  what  he  has  on  the 
necessary  work  of  the  rest  of  his  farm." 

A  clatter  of  hoofs  was  heard,  and  Orde  looked 
up  with  vexation,  but  his  brow  cleared  as  a  horse- 
man halted  under  the  porch. 

"  Hello,  Orde !  just  looked  in  to  ask  if  you  are 
coming  to  polo  on  Tuesday :  we  want  you  badly 
to  help  to  crumple  up  the  Krab  Bokhar  team." 

Orde  explained  that  he  had  to  go  out  into  the 
District,  and  while  the  visitor  complained  that 
though  good  men  wouldn't  play,  duffers  were  al- 
ways keen,  and  that  his  side  would  probably  be 
beaten,  Pagett  rose  to  look  at  his  mount,  a  red, 
lathered  Biloch  mare,  with  a  curious  lyre-like  in- 
curving of  the  ears.  "  Quite  a  little  thoroughbred 
in  all  other  respects,"  said  the  M.  P.,  and  Orde 
presented  Mr.  Reginald  Burke,  Manager  of  the 
Sind  and  Sialkote  Bank,  to  his  friend. 

"Yes,  she's  as  good  as  they  make  'em,  and 
she's  all  the  female  I  possess,  and  spoiled  in  con- 

375 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


sequence,  aren't  you,  old  girl  "  said  Burke,  pat- 
ting the  mare's  glossy  neck  as  she  backed  and 
plunged. 

"  Mr.  Pagett,"  said  Orde,  "  has  been  asking  me 
about  the  Congress.  What  is  your  opinion  ? " 
Burke  turned  to  the  M.  P.  with  a  frank  smile. 

"  Well,  if  it's  all  the  same  to  you,  sir,  I  should 
say.  Damn  the  Congress,  but  then  I'm  no  politi- 
cian, but  only  a  business  man." 

You  find  it  a  tiresome  subject  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it's  all  that,  and  worse  than  that,  for  this 
kind  of  agitation  is  anything  but  wholesome  for 
the  country." 

"  How  do  you  mean  ^  " 

"  It  would  be  a  long  job  to  explain,  and  Sara 
here  won't  stand,  but  you  know  how  sensitive 
capital  is,  and  how  timid  investors  are.  All  this 
sort  of  rot  is  likely  to  frighten  them,  and  we  can't 
afford  to  frighten  them.  The  passengers  aboard 
an  Ocean  steamer  don't  feel  reassured  when  the 
ship's  way  is  stopped  and  they  hear  the  work- 
men's hammers  tinkering  at  the  engines  down 
below.  The  old  Ark's  going  on  all  right  as  she 
is,  and  only  wants  quiet  and  room  to  move. 
Them's  my  sentiments,  and  those  of  some  other 
people  who  have  to  do  with  money  and  business." 

"Then  you  are  a  thick-and-thin  supporter  of 
the  Government  as  it  is." 

"  Why,  DO !   The  Indian  Government  is  much 

37^ 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


too  timid  with  its  money — like  an  old  maiden 
aunt  of  mine — always  in  a  funk  about  her  invest- 
ments. They  don't  spend  half  enough  on  railways, 
for  instance,  and  they  are  slow  in  a  general  way, 
and  ought  to  be  made  to  sit  up  in  all  that  con- 
cerns the  encouragement  of  private  enterprise,  and 
coaxing  out  into  use  the  millions  of  capital  that 
lie  dormant  in  the  country." 

The  mare  was  dancing  with  impatience,  and 
Burke  was  evidently  anxious  to  be  off,  so  the  men 
wished  him  good-bye. 

"  Who  is  your  genial  friend  who  condemns  both 
Congress  and  Government  in  a  breath "?  "  asked 
Pagett,  with  an  amused  smile. 

"  Just  now  he  is  Reggie  Burke,  keener  on  polo 
than  on  anything  else,  but  if  you  went  to  the  Sind 
and  Sialkote  Bank  to-morrow  you  would  find  Mr. 
Reginald  Burke  a  very  capable  man  of  business, 
known  and  liked  by  an  immense  constituency 
North  and  South  of  this." 

"  Do  you  think  he  is  right  about  the  Govern- 
ment's want  of  enterprise  ?  " 

"  I  should  hesitate  to  say.  Better  consult  the 
merchants  and  chambers  of  commerce  in  Cawn- 
pore,  Madras,  Bombay,  and  Calcutta.  But  though 
these  bodies  would  like,  as  Reggie  puts  it,  to  make 
Government  sit  up,  it  is  an  elementary  considera- 
tion in  governing  a  country  like  India,  which  must 
be  administered  for  the  benefit  of  the  people  at 

377 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


large,  that  the  counsels  of  those  who  resort  to  it 
for  the  sake  of  making  money  should  be  judi- 
ciously weighed  and  not  allowed  to  overpower  the 
rest.  They  are  welcome  guests  here,  as  a  matter 
of  course,  but  it  has  been  found  best  to  restrain 
their  influence.  Thus  the  rights  of  plantation 
labourers,  factory  operatives,  and  the  like,  have 
been  protected,  and  the  capitalist,  eager  to  get  on, 
has  not  always  regarded  Government  action  with 
favour.  It  is  quite  conceivable  that  under  an 
elective  system  the  commercial  communities  of  the 
great  towns  might  find  means  to  secure  majorities 
on  labour  questions  and  on  financial  matters." 

"  They  would  act  at  least  with  intelligence  and 
consideration." 

"  Intelligence,  yes ;  but  as  to  consideration,  who 
at  the  present  moment  most  bitterly  resents  the 
tender  solicitude  of  Lancashire  for  the  welfare  and 
protection  of  the  Indian  factory  operative  ?  Eng- 
lish and  native  capitalists  running  cotton  mills  and 
factories." 

"  But  is  the  solicitude  of  Lancashire  in  this  mat- 
ter entirely  disinterested  ?  " 

"  It  is  no  business  of  mine  to  say.  I  merely 
indicate  an  example  of  how  a  powerful  com- 
mercial interest  might  hamper  a  Government 
intent  in  the  first  place  on  the  larger  interests  of 
humanity." 

Orde  broke  off  to  listen  a  moment.    "  There's 

378 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  R 


Dr.  Lathrop  talking  to  my  wife  in  the  drawing- 
room,"  said  he. 

"  Surely  not ;  that's  a  lady's  voice,  and  if  my 
ears  don't  deceive  me,  an  American." 

"  Exactly ;  Dr.  Eva  McCreery  Lathrop,  chief  of 
the  new  Women's  Hospital  here,  and  a  very  good 
fellow  forbye.  Good  morning.  Doctor,"  he  said, 
as  a  graceful  figure  came  out  on  the  verandah; 
"you  seem  to  be  in  trouble.  I  hope  Mrs.  Orde 
was  able  to  help  you." 

"Your  wife  is  real  kind  and  good;  I  always 
come  to  her  when  I'm  in  a  fix,  but  I  fear  it's  more 
than  comforting  I  want." 

"  You  work  too  hard  and  wear  yourself  out," 
said  Orde,  kindly.  "  Let  me  introduce  my  friend, 
Mr.  Pagett,  just  fresh  from  home,  and  anxious  to 
learn  his  India.  You  could  tell  him  something 
of  that  more  important  half  of  which  a  mere  man 
knows  so  little." 

"  Perhaps  I  could  if  I'd  any  heart  to  do  it,  but 
I'm  in  trouble,  I've  lost  a  case,  a  case  that  was  do- 
ing well,  through  nothing  in  the  world  but  inat- 
tention on  the  part  of  a  nurse  I  had  begun  to  trust. 
And  when  I  spoke  only  a  small  piece  of  my  mind 
she  collapsed  in  a  whining  heap  on  the  floor.  It 
is  hopeless  ! " 

The  men  were  silent,  for  the  blue  eyes  of  the 
lady  doctor  were  dim.  Recovering  herself,  she 
looked  up  with  a  smile  half  sad,  half  humorous. 

379 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


"  And  I  am  in  a  whining  heap  too ;  but  what  phase 
of  Indian  life  are  you  particularly  interested  in,  sir?" 

"  Mr.  Pagett  intends  to  study  the  political  aspect 
of  things  and  the  possibility  of  bestowing  electoral 
institutions  on  the  people." 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  as  much  to  the  purpose  to  be- 
stow point-lace  collars  on  them  ?  They  need  many 
things  more  urgently  than  votes.  Why,  it's  like 
giving  a  bread-pill  for  a  broken  leg." 

"Er  —  I  don't  quite  follow,"  said  Pagett  un- 
easily. 

"  Well,  what's  the  matter  with  this  country  is 
not  in  the  least  political,  but  an  all-round  entan- 
glement of  physical,  social,  and  moral  evils  and 
corruptions,  all  more  or  less  due  to  the  unnatural 
treatment  of  women.  You  can't  gather  figs  from 
thistles,  and  so  long  as  the  system  of  infant  mar- 
riage, the  prohibition  of  the  remarriage  of  widows, 
the  lifelong  imprisonment  of  wives  and  mothers  in 
a  worse  than  penal  confinement,  and  the  withhold- 
ing from  them  of  any  kind  of  education  or  treat- 
ment as  rational  beings  continues,  the  country 
can't  advance  a  step.  Half  of  it  is  morally  dead, 
and  worse  than  dead,  and  that's  just  the  half  from 
which  we  have  a  right  to  look  for  the  best  impulses. 
It's  right  here  where  the  trouble  is,  and  not  in  any 
political  considerations  whatsoever." 

"But  do  they  marry  so  early?"  said  Pagett, 
vaguely. 

380 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


"  The  average  age  is  seven,  but  thousands  are 
married  still  earlier.  One  result  is  that  girls  of 
twelve  and  thirteen  have  to  bear  the  burden  of 
wifehood  and  motherhood,  and,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, the  rate  of  mortality  both  for  mothers  and 
children  is  terrible.  Pauperism,  domestic  unhap- 
piness,  and  a  low  state  of  health  are  only  a  few 
of  the  consequences  of  this.  Then,  when,  as  fre- 
quently happens,  the  boy-husband  dies  prema- 
turely, his  widow  is  condemned  to  worse  than 
death.  She  may  not  re-marry,  must  live  a  secluded 
and  despised  life,  a  life  so  unnatural  that  she  some- 
times prefers  suicide ;  more  often  she  goes  astray. 
You  don't  know  in  England  what  such  words  as 
'infant-marriage,  baby-wife,  girl-mother,  and  vir- 
gin-widow '  mean ;  but  they  mean  unspeakable 
horrors  here." 

"  Well,  but  the  advanced  political  party  here 
will  surely  make  it  their  business  to  advocate 
social  reforms  as  well  as  political  ones,"  said 
Pagett. 

"  Very  surely  they  will  do  no  such  thing,"  said 
the  lady  doctor,  emphatically.  "  I  -wish  I  could 
make  you  understand.  Why,  even  of  the  funds 
devoted  to  the  Marchioness  of  DufFerin's  organisa- 
tion for  medical  aid  to  the  women  of  India,  it  was 
said  in  print  and  in  speech  that  they  would  be 
better  spent  on  more  college  scholarships  for  men. 
And  in  all  the  advanced  parties'  talk — God  for- 

381 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


give  them  —  and  in  all  their  programmes,  they 
carefully  avoid  all  such  subjects.  They  will  talk 
about  the  protection  of  the  cow,  for  that's  an 
ancient  superstition  —  they  can  all  understand 
that;  but  the  protection  of  the  women  is  a  new 
and  dangerous  idea."  She  turned  to  Pagett  im- 
pulsively : 

"  You  are  a  member  of  the  English  Parliament. 
Can  you  do  nothing?  The  foundations  of  their 
life  are  rotten — -utterly  and  bestially  rotten.  I 
could  tell  your  wife  things  that  I  couldn't  tell  you. 
I  know  the  life — the  inner  life  that  belongs  to  the 
native,  and  I  know  nothing  else ;  and,  believe  me, 
you  might  as  well  try  to  grow  golden-rod  in  a 
mushroom-pit  as  to  make  anything  of  a  people 
that  are  born  and  reared  as  these  —  these  things 
are.  The  men  talk  of  their  rights  and  privileges. 
I  have  seen  the  women  that  bear  these  very  men, 
and  again  —  may  God  forgive  the  men !  " 

Pagett's  eyes  opened  with  a  large  wonder.  Dr. 
Lathrop  rose  tempestuously. 

"  I  must  be  off  to  lecture,"  said  she,  "  and  I'm 
sorry  that  I  can't  show  you  my  hospitals ;  but  you 
had  better  believe,  sir,  that  it's  more  necessary  for 
India  than  all  the  elections  in  creation." 

"  That's  a  woman  with  a  mission,  and  no  mis- 
take," said  Pagett,  after  a  pause. 

"  Yes ;  she  believes  in  her  work,  and  so  do  I," 
said  Orde.    "  I've  a  notion  that  in  the  end  it  will 

382 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


be  found  that  the  most  helpful  work  done  for 
India  in  this  generation  was  wrought  by  Lady 
Dufferin  in  drawing  attention  —  what  work  that 
was,  by  the  way,  even  with  her  husband's  great 
name  to  back  it  I  —  to  the  needs  of  women  here. 
In  effect,  native  habits  and  beliefs  are  an  organised 
conspiracy  against  the  laws  of  health  and  happy 
life  —  but  there  is  some  dawning  of  hope  now." 

"How  d'you  account  for  the  general  indif- 
ference, then  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  it's  due  in  part  to  their  fatalism 
and  their  utter  indifference  to  all  human  suffering. 
How  much  do  you  imagine  the  great  province 
of  the  Punjab,  with  over  twenty  million  people 
and  half  a  score  rich  towns,  has  contributed  to 
the  maintenance  of  civil  dispensaries  last  year"? 
About  seven  thousand  rupees." 

"  That's  seven  hundred  pounds,"  said  Pagett 
quickly. 

"  I  wish  it  was,"  replied  Orde ;  "  but  anyway, 
it's  an  absurdly  inadequate  sum,  and  shows  one 
of  the  blank  sides  of  Oriental  character." 

Pagett  was  silent  for  a  long  time.  The  ques- 
tion of  direct  and  personal  pain  did  not  lie  within 
his  researches.  He  preferred  to  discuss  the 
weightier  matters  of  the  law,  and  contented  him- 
self with  murmuring :  "  They'll  do  better  later  on." 
Then,  with  a  rush,  returning  to  his  first  thought : 

"But,  my  dear  Orde,  if  it's  merely  a  class 

383 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


movement  of  a  local  and  temporary  character, 
how  d'you  account  for  Bradlaugh,  who  is  at  least 
a  man  of  sense,  taking  it  up  *?  " 

"  I  know  nothing  of  the  champion  of  the  New 
Brahmans  but  what  I  see  in  the  papers.  I  sup- 
pose there  is  something  tempting  in  being  hailed 
by  a  large  assemblage  as  the  representative  of  the 
aspirations  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  millions  of 
people.  Such  a  man  looks  'through  all  the  roaring 
and  the  wreaths,'  and  does  not  reflect  that  it  is  a 
false  perspective,  which,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  hides 
the  real  complex  and  manifold  India  from  his 
gaze.  He  can  scarcely  be  expected  to  distinguish 
between  the  ambitions  of  a  new  oligarchy  and  the 
real  wants  of  the  people  of  whom  he  knows  noth- 
ing. But  it's  strange  that  a  professed  Radical 
should  come  to  be  the  chosen  advocate  of  a 
movement  which  has  for  its  aim  the  revival  of  an 
ancient  tyranny.  Shows  how  even  Radicalism 
can  fall  into  academic  grooves  and  miss  the  essen- 
tial truths  of  its  own  creed.  Believe  me,  Pagett, 
to  deal  with  India  you  want  first-hand  knowledge 
and  experience.  I  wish  he  would  come  and  live 
here  for  a  couple  of  years  or  so." 

"  Is  not  this  rather  an  ad  hominem  style  of  argu- 
ment?" 

"  Can't  help  it  in  a  case  like  this.  Indeed,  I 
am  not  sure  you  ought  not  to  go  further  and 
weigh  the  whole  character  and  quality  and  up- 

384 


ENLIGHTENMENTS  OF  PAGETT,  M.  P. 


bringing  of  the  man.  You  must  admit  that  the 
monumental  complacency  with  which  he  trotted 
out  his  ingenious  little  Constitution  for  India 
showed  a  strange  want  of  imagination  and  the 
sense  of  humour." 

"  No,  I  don't  quite  admit  it,"  said  Pagett. 

"  Well,  you  know  him  and  I  don't,  but  that's 
how  it  strikes  a  stranger."  He  turned  on  his  heel 
and  paced  the  verandah  thoughtfully.  "And, 
after  all,  the  burden  of  the  actual,  daily  unroman- 
tic  toil  falls  on  the  shoulders  of  the  men  out  here, 
and  not  on  his  own.  He  enjoys  all  the  privileges 
of  recommendation  without  responsibility,  and  we 
—  well,  perhaps,  when  you've  seen  a  little  more 
of  India  you'll  understand.  To  begin  with,  our 
death-rate's  five  times  higher  than  yours  —  I 
speak  now  for  the  brutal  bureaucrat  —  and  we 
work  on  the  refuse  of  worked-out  cities  and  ex- 
hausted civilisations,  among  the  bones  of  the 
dead." 

Pagett  laughed.  "  That's  an  epigrammatic  way 
of  putting  it,  Orde." 

"  Is  it  ^  Let's  see,"  said  the  Deputy  Commis- 
sioner of  Amara,  striding  into  the  sunshine  towards 
a  half-naked  gardener  potting  roses.  He  took  the 
man's  hoe,  and  went  to  a  rain-scarped  bank  at  the 
bottom  of  the  garden. 

"Come  here,  Pagett,"  he  said,  and  cut  at  the 
sun-baked  soil.    After  three  strokes  there  rolled 

385 


IN  BLACK  AND  WHITE 


from  under  the  blade  of  the  hoe  the  half  of  a 
clanking  skeleton  that  settled  at  Pagett's  feet  in 
an  unseemly  jumble  of  bones.  The  M.  P.  drew 
back. 

"  Our  houses  are  built  on  cemeteries,"  said 
Orde.  "  There  are  scores  of  thousands  of  graves 
within  ten  miles." 

Pagett  was  contemplating  the  skull  with  the 
awed  fascination  of  a  man  who  has  but  little  to  do 
with  the  dead.  "  India's  a  very  curious  place," 
said  he,  after  a  pause. 

"Ah*?  You'll  know  all  about  it  in  three 
months.    Come  in  to  lunch,"  said  Orde. 


386 


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